First stab at writing a sonnet
Shoreline: The Mermaid’s Sonnet
The waves grow rough and crash upon the rock Till sand remains as bone returns to soil And tide beats on the drum of shore, a clock No man can cheat, nor bribe with wit or toil And so, in sun and storm the days still pass Mere waves of breath and bone and blood, no more Than wicked swells, as heartbeats crest so fast Then break, when dropped upon horizon’s floor. And yet, I am no man to fret and fall In fate’s cruel arms, or ocean’s game with time No heart have I to break or hear tide’s call To feel the drum must press your lips to mine And coax life’s end from slowly dimming eyes That see beyond the shoreline’s lullabies.











