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The Ocean

Sarah Sutherland

Her roaring waves and chilly waters,

Brushing over your trembling skin.

Her throbbing heart pounding with the tides,

Beating you about the terrified shore.

She carries you up before thrusting you down


She’s forever a liquid-lined masterpiece, a mystery.

She’s a force of nature,

Powerful as a knight in glistening armour.

She’s the wild horizon,

She’s the edge of glory.

Her never-ending wilderness is utterly out of sight,

Her roaring waves sound you to your sleep tonight.

She emerges like vivid, blinding car lights bleeding over

a declivitous slope in the inky early



She howls like a lonely wolf in the moonlight.

She bellows like an angry tiger roaring from beyond,

She towers atop like the skyscrapers of New York City.

She cleanses like the dead sea of Jordan,

She is as viscous as a hissing tap left running.

She is as unpredictable as a magician who flips your

mind around completely,

She is more frightening than a father telling a spooky

story to a gullible young child.

She’s the sand tangled through your knotted, salty hair,

She’s the salt that’s cemented to your tingling skin.

She’s the gradually fading tan line that wanes over

countless memories,

She’s the dawn’s horizon.

She’s the bath of nature, cleansing and revitalizing,

She’s the sun’s bed, for the time it must abandon to the


She’s the shore of glory.

She’s a glass half full with a silver lining.