The Bay Is All To Me Poem by mifael llauderes

The ripple on her face
Is of the wind perhaps for water rests naturally
The color of itself is of the sky
She’s marvelous in tapestry
Though simple through the naked eye
My thought is drawn to pause awhile

All her seclusions with the moon
Are kept in quite a mystery
Escapes at times in hurried whiff
Of salty mist upon my lips
In rhythmic calm cacophony
That’s more a subdued melody

If love is to romanticists
The bay is all to me