Foaming Sea

I stand on top the rocky crag

And look below on foaming sea

A world of spray in billowing flags

Of color grey with vast majesty

I descend to the shore and wade on through

The roaring waves and sand below

Without restraint I plunge into

The blueness of its sparkling glow

I feel water surrounding me

I swim through caverns in the deep

I smell the air of salty sea

And hear the gulls above me weep.

What hand such majesty could compose?

What ability in the Maker’s mind?

Covered in stalactites, blue-silver grottoes

Who can tell the treasures one might find?

I work my way back down to the sea

Where the sand is crushed by the waves

I see the dangerous rocks in the deep

How many of those mark a man's grave?

Spanish galleons, lost at sea,

The desperate fight between nature and man

Sinking, dying, in black waters eerie

The end of that sea-race those sailors ran.

Come to my grotto, lost in the deep,

Sheltered from the tide in my silent lagoon;

Now but a whisper, glory dead in sleep,

Beached in my grotto, lit by the moon.

A.J