A tender touch, again and again
trying to sculpt the sands.
Only to change it again
as the master artist has too many ideas.
When the Moon laughs,
the tempers and the pinnacle are high.
Only to assert that it cannot low lie,
as the master of this planet.
Too many treasures buried,
and great many warriors sailed.
Eons have gone and eons will come,
has the time been warped!
When the Sun plays,
the tones are true, blue and green.
Varied shades of life,
surfing through the waves.