The Ocean by Myst Ryder

(2 ratings)
Rate this Poem (5 best)


the gentle rollling blue and green
crashed upon the shore
depositing treasures
for the world to judge
a curled spiraling seashell
a drying, dying seastar
a poor lost crab
and when no one accepts the ocean's gifts
it matters little to her
she merely scoops up her gifts in
her glistening arms
and carries them to another shore.