The sea lies millpond calm and still, obedient to the Goddess’ will.
She has decreed it must be so and thus the ocean far below.
Represses its own urgent needs and to the Goddess’ will accedes.
Its gleaming surface satin smooth. It has no choice to tell the truth
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Fantastic poem, Ivor. I love the excellent rhyme and flow. The beachcomber reminds me of the gold prospectors of the old west. They always thought, today I'll find the mother lode. Of course, some did. I guess that's what kept them all going.Great poem, my friend. Thanks Richard