Sea Merchant

Time comes in waves, People, in places. Words come out of their shells as true colours always change them. God is given to glory, to glory- destination lands in two: In the right hand of a creature that has breached its reading code And in the eyes of a teacher, leading a school of fish back through the fundamental basics The latter lathers loosely on linguistic intent For intent is driven by lifeboats that write the shores as landing in them, just so. The reader's digest delivers intelligence as notes on a keyboard; Consequently who plays the creativity of the boats tends back to the reader quite a mouthful After all, people are people True colours will drive them around the world. How yesterday's conclusions reach tomorrow, is a mere hum lodged in the back of your throat.