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The Boy Who Wouldn’t Stop Swimming

The Boy’s mother, could just, her son’s head see;

Pursuing the horizon, where the sky meets the sea.

She yearns for her boy’s return,

If only in her direction, he’d turn.

Her son really loves to swim,

In rhythm with the gulls above him,

Gazing at fish and life beneath him,

To feel the waves and smell sweet salt air,

Whether the weather is poor or fair

At nature’s colours with wonder, he stares.

At one, with the music of the surf

Pounding on dappled shingled shores;

Harmonising, with glistening pebbles, under moon or sun,

At home with the music of the sea,

Which is where he wants to be.

Sensing his mother’s concern,

Into her direction he turns,

Feeling the crave of the waves, to return to shore,

He rides them, as never before.