A mutual agreement

The ocean before me looks dead and dry,

all docile, immobile a mile away.

Still stealing its shades from the coloured sky,

and still navy blue in the light of day.

I just cannot grasp how it slips and slides,

the ease with which it rides on the growling shores

as wave upon wave and with even strides

while being the field for thousand wars.

I run to it wanting to damn its size.

"How dare you come out all so flat and vast?"

I run and I shout till I realize

that out there my curses would never last.

It whispers to me: "Settle down, my boy.

There is no point screaming your throat all sore.

Relax now, dear mortal, and live, enjoy

Do not be so coy till you've heard me roar."

So settlement's made on the growling shores,

and heat and read anger turns blue and cold.

There's seawater flowing through open pores

with volatile odours too soft to hold.

There's putrification all sick and sweet

along with a sailors last dying yell.

and seaweeds are rotting beneath my feet,

but somehow I rather enjoy the smell.