I would hear the shush and gurgle of the sea as it lapped over my feet
followed by the ploop, doomp and putush of my pebbles.
And then I looked at the palette of blues before me
and I tried to name them all.
The sea laughed at my folly and splashed at my page
creating a water colour of its own.
copyright, 2007. Verilion
Labels: meditations by the sea, poem
