My wailing waves of nostalgia sweeps my joy away.
Thrillingly i push with pressure,
But hold on to the ecstasy i leave,
When i hug your dotted skin.

I try to keep the volume low,
But my tensed syllable still speaks.
To shuttle to and fro is my calling,
And a call i am indebted to answer.

In deep shivering faith,
I hope to break the bounded sea shore,
I hope to embrace the warmth,
Of your shaggy skin.

But for as long as you acclaim me,
I will remain strong,
Even when nature calls,
My swirling surfs will still roar.

By - ken_oime