The shore
Sarah sitting by the shore
What does she see in the waves?
Is it fish that fly beneath the sky,
Or pearly foam lapping a cave

 Sarah sitting by the shore
Why can’t she go for a dip?
Is it remarks so snide of sweeping tides,
Or fear her hair would drip

Sarah sitting by the shore
She seems to be there all day
When comes night with scary blights
Where does she choose to stay?