ocean

 i can smell the ocean from my chair.

looking up it isn't there.

a peach ripens on the window sill

the clocks approaching quarter 'til

and as i pull the bag from my cup of tea

my mind takes me places i'd like to be.

here, magazines picture my vacation

while outside, birds make their migration.

the mast will creak as my chair rocks.

i stir my tea as my ship docks,

with quill in hand and love sublime

i'll send this message from out of time

corked and floating on ocean's crest

the letter drifts to islands west

at night, moonlight flashes the bottle glass,

by day, the jumping, curious dolphin pass

by sooner or later and seagulls,

by lesser and greater in wind lulls,

by storms and seasons

beyond all reasons

i put my feet up and think of beach,

sip my tea, and eat my peach