Here at the seashore
Surrounded by countless seashells
No one intrudes with a call
No one inputs a yell
The breeze
Windy and salty
Ever free
Ever blowing to freeze
Never ever been rude
The waves
Their wavy oscillating attitude
Constant and intrusive
Ever been weaving and rolling
Never waving a bye
The Coral reefs
Love only the platitudes
Live only for a period not so brief
Lie and lie and not want to die
The fish
Contented with its surroundings
Completely complacent
Commutes
Days unending
Tarries unending
To swallow hook, line and sinker
Into an ending
The Swan
The neck of the Swan
Protrudes
In routine inspection
It snatches the fish
In routine fashion
It cranes a neck outstretched
Like the crane
The Canoe
It lingers
Lazily it anchors in readiness
As it anchors on the latitude
As it conquers the hisses and the dews
It dances to a wheezing tune
The fisherman
He has fortitude
A lot of it
The fishmonger
She curries favour
Only a little bit of it
The fisherman and the fishmonger
Collude
To pollute the seashore
Before leaving the shores
Of the poor ocean
The squatter
And the sand winner
Destroy the shores
In droves
Calling the spade a winning partner
The fishing net sees it all
But it believes in servitude
Solitude!
Says the moon shell
Multitude!
Suggests the sand
Magnitude!
Claims the ocean
Gratitude!
Impresses the fish
The lobster
The shrimp
Amplitude!
Amply implied in the horizon
The Sun
It has daylight
It rests horizontally
It emits vertically
But seems at peace with the ocean
The man
The woman
Hardly covered
They love a bare attitude
They root for Adam and Eve
Less of cover
More of skin
Here at the seashore
With ships in view
With fins in the big Blue
With wings in the sky blue
It is crude
It is rude
To be caught naked
…in the nude
