Oh! the amazing power of the sea.
So moody wild and free,
Can build up power like a mighty giant,
Just as easily, becomes calm and quiet.

A children’s paradise it’s said to be,
With buckets and spades down by the sea.
Grandma walks down to dabble her toes,
Can you trust it, no one knows.

Listening to the calling of circling gulls,
Between those melancholic lulls.
Then again that loud and plaintive cry,
Remembering many years gone by.

Those favourite holiday pastimes we had,
Competitions to catch the largest crab.
Tiptoeing around rock pools shrimping,
Avoiding stranded jellyfish from stinging.

Childhood memories when we used to dwell,
Searching for the most colourful shell.
Or sunbathing on the seashore,
As we had done many times before.

When our young daughter at the age of three,
Took her toy yacht for a sail on the sea.
Sadly the boat got caught up by the tide.
Our sobbing little girl left standing there and cried!

Windsurfers flying wild and free,
Speedboats skipping fast through the sea.
Such an uplifting feeling of wind in the air.
Blowing it’s fingers through ones hair.

Thoughts of fishermen out in their boats.
Nets they have cast are marked with orange floats.
Winds conjure up a turbulent sea.
Men haul in their nets, how full will they be?

Wild horses are prancing, I’d better keep away.
They’re in frisky mood, wanting to play.
While searching for sea shells we like the most,
The tide might creep around you while engrossed!

The most frightening happening and terrible plight.
When the sea rolls back then disappears from sight.
In far off countries this has been seen,
But safely at home we watched on our Screen.

The gigantic Tsunami, so alarming!
Gobbles up villages without any warning.
Destroys peoples lives and their homes,
Left with just the shells of what they owned

Sometimes, there are whirlpools to drag you down.
If the sea had it’s way, would have you drown!
But we are wiser, only Mermaids go there,
When frolicking about, letting down their hair.

Oh! The swirling mists, some call it the Haar.
Some ships find it difficult detecting where they are.
Lighthouses were a God send to ships in the night.
Guiding them safely home, with their beaming light.

This rotating orb on which we are living
Affects the tides that we are seeing.
Six hours in, then six hours out.
Get it wrong, you’ll know without a doubt.

Near the surface, shoals of coloured fish.
Lower down, corals to please every wish.
The depth of the oceans are thousands of fathoms deep.
Ghosts of sunken ship wrecks divers seek.

Be the tide high or be it low,
Churns out many treasures it has to show,
There’s driftwood, corals, sponges and pot chard's.
Such a variety for those of the arts.

We go to the beach, wind, rain or shine.
Sometimes with daughter and grandchildren of mine
It’s always a pleasure being there for me.
Living so close to the coast and the sea.