She hides in my back yard:

Only 15 steps to meet her.

As I approach her blue-green girdle,

Her sweet breath caresses my face.

I cross her sandy halo

And touch her delicate fingers with my own.

She playfully tugs at my ankles

As I watch the sun disappear behind her.

Oceania is her name:

She will be here long after I am gone.

Her children thrive in her womb.

If I embrace her too deeply

I will drown in her crystal tears.

So, I gingerly hold her hand

And find that her fingers are

Fragile

Ephemeral

and Eternal

I bid her “goodnight”

And promise to return

            Tomorrow.