The Ocean

The silvers splash

The seagulls coo

The fish swoosh under

Waves of blue

Beneath her hand

Her tender smooth

Skin, billowing sails

fly past the roof

of her mouth,

Her cries of sorrow

Heard today

Forgotten tomorrow.

A streamlined bode

of slick, white foam

Swift as sound

E’er free to roam

‘Cross seven seas

But not beyond

Land she despises

Sea most fond

Her sons and daughters

Lakes of gold

She will protect

A hundredfold.

The Ocean


Author: Jessica Y

Economics student at the University of Cambridge. Aspiring data scientist.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s