In successive swells the tide peaks <br />and then slowly subsides, <br />only to begin again; <br /> <br />For the sea ebbs and flows <br />with a rhythm all her own, <br />sighing above the din <br />of her commotion, <br />harmoniously commingling <br />with the shore. <br /> <br />Unabashedly her waves pulsate, <br />raking furrows into earthen flesh. <br /> <br />Only the on looking moon <br />can pull her back, <br />and this little by little <br />and lap by lap. <br /> <br />And all the while <br />the outstretched strand <br />reclines beneath the ever crashing surf <br />riding her undulations relatively undisturbed, <br />interrupted only by the jealous whispers of the wind.<br /><br />William Jackson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sea-50/
