Herculean Oceans, Theirs But To Fill (10) Poem by Captain Cur

Oceans move, eons till their race be won
Horseless atop the earth and sinking sun;
Unclouded skies, delirious and bright
Tremulous ride the waves in living light,
Mavericks bucking wildly as they throw
And thrash about unsettled deep below,
Their journey long, an endless wide expanse
Contained by shores as powerful and vast.

By divine ordain these treasures given,
By tenderest winds their massive bodies driven;
Within basins they sensually pour
Passion mounting while fingering the shore,
To touch, to leave their essence on the sand
To cradle earth within their liquid hand;
A precious sadness lingers on them still,
Their existence level, theirs but to fill.