Pacific

The crest of a wave washes over the sand,

  soft and serene as if it were planned.

A sand dollar settles by a blow hole,

   the rippling sounds are good for the soul.

Far out to sea a vessel plows on,

  a silver wake and then it is gone.

It carries someone to a far-off place,

  parting the water, leaving no trace.

The peaceful blue ocean is all that it seems,

  in every one of your tropical dreams.

You can find some splendor wherever you go,

  but way out there a Typhoon might blow.

The dolphins are playing’ out in the wake,

  a tsunami might hit you after a quake.

Six thousand miles without a landmark,

  home of the fishes and of the shark.

The swells will lift the mightiest ship,

  green to the gills for half of the trip.

Subic and Naha are just Ports of Call,

  no one will ever visit them all.

I can tell you true, Yokohama is nice,

  for all those who like fish heads and rice.

A snorkeler searches out on the reef,

  for all of the wonders a-lying beneath.

Sea snakes and urchins linger below,

  with the wreck of a ship from long ago.

The wind will sway in the coconut trees,

  while a seagull is lifted up by the breeze.

An anxious surfer waits for a wave,

  all the adventure that he can crave.

Someday the Golden Gate will welcome you home,

  but who gives a care when there’s still time to roam?

The day fades away in a golden sunset,

  just lie on the beach without a regret.

LDT September 25, ‘22

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