The Ocean

By Derek Weeks, 1999

A resonant crash fills the air all around
Then it fades, leaving silence once more.
Soon another wave breaks with the same, mellow sound
Running well up the white sandy shore.
From far-away seas these little waves came
And the next and the last are exactly the same;
They are perfectly formed and placidly tame,
Rolling over the smooth ocean floor.

The sun slowly climbs in the east of the sky
And plays tricks on the sea with its light;
It makes blues and then greens as the waters drift by
Chasing off any memories of night.
The ocean is peacefully warmed through and through,
But the land is made hot by the warmth strong and true
And is thoroughly rid of the last morning dew,
While the white sand is glistening and bright.

The sky is as clear as the ocean it hues
And its blue is as deep as the sea;
Just a faint breath of air does the wind need to use
To dispel any cloud there may be.
So vast is this place that no walls can be found
And no roof but the sky nor a floor save the ground
So that all the things here are by no limits bound,
Like the clouds in the air they are free.

Notes on the poem

This was produced during year 11 as part of some sort of creative writing excercise. I like the rhythm, but perhaps it could be longer (or more interesting). I tried to make it entirely descriptive (not a sequence of events).

Maintained by: Derek Weeks
Contact Email:
Valid HTML 4.01!