I smell the slap happy sea.
The brine
The scales of fish
The open water and pine trees
A cold zephyr from Canada
I smell the slap happy sea.
There’s this sea
This slap happy sea
Water rippling from feathers, boats and jets skis
The waves slap against wooden boats
Happy in their might
They’re unaware the power isn’t theirs’
It’s from another boat’s waking.
A lake typically isn’t wave creating.
Still they’re slap happy
Boasting about their skill
They’re hungry from their quaking belly’s shaking
This slap happy sea.
It’s beyond measure in beauty.
The sunset golden and fiery orange
The moon casting an elegant shimmer
When it’s night the silence is omnipresent.
Like a keeper, it’s there but hardly seen.
The slap happy sea is a calling.
It’s an impossibility in its ability to make believe.
The sea is so much like me.
A young spirit caught up in dreaming.
13 responses to “Slap Happy”
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Thank you so much 😀
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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