Pacific Ocean
When I was young, my mother used to say,
“When you grow up, go past the seven seas.”
She spoke of ships that sailed from the India’s bay ,
To England’s shores in the old colonial days.
When I first flew to Colorado’s sky,
I soared with the KLM in royal grace.
From DC-3, I knew not which seas I crossed,
Through Manila, Tokyo, & Honolulu’s place.
Now here I dwell by the Pacific’s shore,
In California, sunlit evermore.
The water blue, the restless waves arise,
For diving, surfing—freedom under skies.
The mountains, forests, cliffs all meet the beach,
Where bears at night and seabirds feed in reach.
The music of the waves sings soft and wild,
The days drift slow, the heart turns free and mild.
The beaches deep, the waves can sink a ship,
Beware the jellyfish on fishing trips,
If walking with a cane, bring forth a friend,
For bluffs descend where beach and cliff shall blend.
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