Salt in the Air
Mmm the smell of salt in the briny air
so close to the sea as Neptunian flair
standing back to gaze at the waves
marveling at how the ocean plays
living as a yeoman but not at sea
living on the shore as a watchman free
seeing the waters charging at the shore
in a poetic cadence of oceanic lore
Mmm the sight of the ocean’s crest
and the exhilarating days of its unrest
and the mystery of its bottom floor
leading me down to its private core
Mmm the beauty of the evening sun
my private gallery when the day is done
and the rising sun in the eastern skies
flaunting its charm only for mine eyes
From my window I can feel the ocean roar.
I roll on the waves while standing on the floor.
They’re dashing against the starboard side
and taking me on a rocky ride.
But I love the cadence of the rhythmic rolling
and the taste of the salty air from my calling.
To live as a seafarer is my dream
from the shores of somewhere in between.
Land ahoy, me mates.
Land ahoy is from where I dream.
I used to live in Laguna Beach CA and marvel at the ocean every day.
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