Her voice echoes,
Roaring through crashing waves
And whispering over wind-blown ripples
An ear pressed to a stolen conch can hear her call.
She changes with the moon, like a mood
Of highs and lows controlled by white light
Reflecting off her glowing skin
Grasping the stars as the sky circles overhead
Her storms terrorize cities and towns who have only seen her in movies and read of her in books
And she attacks with her face hidden, lethal
and ashamed
But when the kind sun hides behind her, or peeks his eyes over her shoulder,
She is a mirror, illuminated by a pastel sky,
pink tinting her cheeks
She is unpredictable
Her relentless currents flow silently,
Ripping away and gripping, unforgiving
And under the surface of her gentle face there is mystery – monsters, dangers, silence
And yet they come to her
They face her fury and surrender to her strength
Allowing themselves to drift off
Consumed by her seductive charm