The Sea, The Moon And Me Poem by Ian Bowen

Living inland, the sound of the sea
has always excited my unsalted pores,
when on occasions
I have ventured to its shores.

On those blue, cloudless days,
I wonder at the calm,
tossing a pebble from my palm.
A mirrored ocean,
only rippled
by breath bubbles
of hidden fish,
lapping the edges of its giant dish.

On those dark, grey days,
I am frightened by its raging mood;
a combatant in a lunar feud.
A giant swell, only calmed
by some heavenly change,
across the vastness of its range.