In the deep interstice where whispered echoes bob on velvet currents,
The sea murmurs tales in glimmering lexicons,
Of pearl-laden forgotten dreams,
And the secret life of rusticity.
Here, the octopi paint cloaks for starfish soldiers.
At dawn, light plays kaleidoscope over fool's gold,
While the anthem of the watery vault serenades,
An unseen audience of crustacean balladeers.
Isolating the driftwood’s chronicle,
The tide's precipitate grows in ethereal dusk.
Shall you whisper a rolodex of solemnity to the tides?
The kelp shall entangle secrets riper than tidesworn tomes,
Embedded in sand testimony, tinted aquamarine.
Alas, the lithosphere grins beneath layers of sleep...