The Sea Imp
The sea, precociously sails, toward shore.
A curious imp of a child is he.
The waves, like whirligigs, with laughter roar.
There’s no other place i’d rather to be —
where sequin splashes, touch the wind then flee.
With precious charm, his true blue eyes foresee.
With strong limbs, wrestles monstrous whales, and knocks
over huge sandcastles, built with small hands.
He blows on boats and slides under their docks.
Don’t turn your back on him! He’ll wave his wand!
Still kind, he stops, befriends the suntanned sand.
Resolved to do his part, he trims the land.
But role of dad — the king releases calm.
The impish sailor shamed, dropped in time out.
This pampered teenage child, hears preach from mom:
“Draw out wild waves, from deep, to crest and mount!”
Her misty eyes know what this life’s about.
“Reign well, my son! Swells held up high, froth clout!”
With thirst, I turned away to grab a coke,
then crash, swept off my feet —the wave it spoke.
1/26/2018
Laura Loo’s Urban Sonnet Contest
Rhyme Scheme: ABABBB- CDCDDD- EFEFFF-GG?
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