The sea, so still,
not a ripple to count.
Reflections are painted
on the ocean,
showcasing our day.
The sea, a mirror, holds
the sun beneath our feet-
below us, not above.
Hot and heavy air
weighs us down, while
the trapped heat
longs for a breeze.
We welcome the calm.
It never quite lasts.
We breathe in
the salt-thick air,
the sea’s steady breath.
The wind picks up,
the waves start their dance,
calling out – lap, lap, lap.
A hypnotist charms,
entrances us-
we can feel the waves are back.

Fantastic poem
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Thank you Heather!
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