Tossing and turning like a restless sleeper,
Constantly shifting.
Rearing their foamy heads,
Flinging their frothy manes,
They thunder towards the shore.
Stilled, momentarily,
By the fish that swim in their indigo depths.
Reaching for the sun, crashing down, and rising every time they fall,
They sway in time with the wheeling of the gulls.
Clutching at those who dare to ride them,
Sucking them down into oblivion.
Untameable, unrelenting, unpredictable
It batters the coastline.
Seeking victims, snatching ships, they are hungry.
Lurking in the shadows, they wait.
Venturing far out into the world,
They dance with momentum,
With purpose.
They waltz as one.
Prose, I knows 