The Ocean

The Ocean When he heard, I had been a seafarer he wanted to know about the ocean, “write it down for me,” he said...What nerve. The ocean has many colours one of them is blue, sometimes it is like a mud and often it is black with shattering of greenness like a spring day in the Alps. There are times when it a watery Swiss, enormous white topped waves bearing down on your ship that shudders like a wet dog and only nuns keep their calm they have lived a chaste life and expect to be handed a pair of wings should things go wrong. There the is golden morning ocean, that blinks like a million golden ducats are floating on its silky surface, not to forget the moon casting its dark mystic upon the ocean trying to drag you into its strange mysteriousness. I could not tell him this because at the time I was thinking of being in an oak forest chasing squirrels and raiding their larders of nuts.