she watched the waves
move back and forth
touched it with her hand
sat on the sand
took a deep breath
and kept staring at it
nothing was more peaceful
to her than the calm waves
of the ocean
money could never buy
About the Creator
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Perfect Little Pirate
The rough, sodden rope bit into her fingers as she swung over the roiling water far below. Reaching out with the toe of her boot, she managed to catch hold of the rain-soaked railing of the ship- and promptly slipped. Throwing herself forward, she landed hard on the deck, slamming her elbows against the wood planks. The sharp yelp of pain quickly bubbled into a laugh, and she rolled onto her back, laughing up at the gray sky as a torrent of rain washed away the soot covering her skin.
By M. A. Mehan 8 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
The waves are sooooo therapeutic! Loved your poem!