Colors of the Ocean

Sailing on sweet saline 

following the ocean road; 

paved with wind and waves

colliding beneath my boat 

And the sky above reflected

upon the mirror sea, 

looks as though I'm in the clouds, 

cloud nine, it may seem. 

The shore beyond so friendly, amiable to a fault 

it beckons and it pleads, but my anchor has been lost 

and the oars reduced to branches, their hands won't take the water

it must be acknowledged then, the Blue'll make me a martyr 

Yet the sadness of the mass of brine

is not so there as you'd think; 

the ocean blue like a siren on cue 

has taken many like me-

sailors venturing waters great

the curious seduced by the sea! 

The ocean'll drink our colors, 

but the colors we have seen!