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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1779398
Ukulele...
Sand slithers through the even little cracks between my toes
I suppose I missed the ocean's smell, the way the water flows-
To the moon and soon enough I will feel at ease
Lying next and hexed by the dreaming of the seas

But that sand is far away, and that time of year is done
And the trees, they seem to say that the dying has begun
No more grass skirts and coconuts, no luaus in these cliffs
Instead, between the two is a wide and ice filled rift

I suppose I miss the Sun, watch it run across the sky-
And lie by mountainsides, and from these hills around my eyes
I hear the ocean, see the shells, my emotions just can't tell-
If the ukulele sings in my mind's ear or from real strings

But I only have to wait until the world awakes from its cold rest
The water here is frozen, the air is like snow in my chest
I can't wait till I can breathe, till I can swim and I believe-
The ocean breeze is real, that the things I hear and see-
Are alive, and once more the strings will sing to me-
Songs of grass skirts and coconuts, and the beach will again be-
Sung to sleep under the moon
By the gentle ukulele
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