⠀ ⊹ [Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.] ⊹
The ocean has its silent cave, Deep, quite, and alone. Though there be fury on the waves, beneath them there is none. I took the dog for a walk near the shore. The waves were creeping steadily towards us. The groaning sea was riparian-blue, plinking of the wave-music was enthralling. Cylinders of light moved across the sea. The neon-blue sky was threaded with silver. It’s not often you get to see a sunrise-gold beach. That was our privilege as we gazed out at the slothful sea. The horizon seemed to be stitched with a silver line. Our serenity was ruptured by the raucous cry of a gull. The mesmeric beauty of its beat was heart-swelling. We realized then that the sea was its own master, kindling its own symphony.
The ocean has its silent cave, Deep, quite, and alone. Though there be fury on the waves, beneath them there is none. I took the dog for a walk near the shore. The waves were creeping steadily towards us. The groaning sea was riparian-blue, plinking of the wave-music was enthralling. Cylinders of light moved across the sea. The neon-blue sky was threaded with silver. It’s not often you get to see a sunrise-gold beach. That was our privilege as we gazed out at the slothful sea. The horizon seemed to be stitched with a silver line. Our serenity was ruptured by the raucous cry of a gull. The mesmeric beauty of its beat was heart-swelling. We realized then that the sea was its own master, kindling its own symphony.