Tide Poem by Hal Caufield

You are my tide.
Like a Spanish Man o War upon the waters,
I rise, fall, come and go - all by your whim.

When you are angry,
You smash and batter the timbers,
Til I, that never fears, am afraid.
I hold on to mast for dearest life,
And pray that this too shall pass.

When you are sad,
You are calm and low,
Til I am melancholy and impotent.
I walk the edge of withered planks
Staring into your waters and pray.

When you are happy,
(Oh when you are happy!)
You raise this ship and all her speed.
Til I smile and laugh, as my heart flutters
And sets the sails.
I come, I go
And all the while, I pray.