The Coming of a Tide

William the Conqueror

The rough surf against the sand,
The tide recedes but is back again.
The fishermen yelling as they reel the bait in,
The boats on the horizon dissapear with the wind.


The ancient waters flowing smooth,
These themselves are older than Zeus.
Upon our feet the water soothes,
The tides forever will continue.

So many memories,
In the seas of prismarine.
The silent peace was meant to be,
Dating back through the centuries.

The vibrant colors of the reefs,
The different sights give relief.
This beauty no match for even the greatest thief,
The soothing waves wash away all grief.

Oh how great it is to watch the sunrise,
It later sets with no goodbyes.
Centuries have made the ocean wise,
Across the water, the wind will cry.