Allure.
The sea\'s breast swells tonight
as her efforts to rise, heightened
by heaving, break surface on skin
and inflated wounds, topped thinly
with spume, burst as ocean labours.
She roars in suppression to gain
the shore finds her effort checked
and overwrought waits expectantly.
Then sweeps out again, tumbling
somersaults over herself grumbling
in sub-marine thunder-loud sounds
as her pebblebed reels with pounding.
Bloated is she yet moving no slower,
bellows ignored, foam tears now flow
down watery rills before rollers make
short work of her face, saltily staining
its normal allure with weedy-green hair.
Yet need hastens impatience for rarely
found oneness, so with naked abandon
she writhes until moment for joint action.
Sea-Swell intends to bare all tonight
in majestic embrace with Spring-tide.