The vast turbulent waters have a shade of cloud blue,
Possessing strong and high rising waves,
That gives a nice and hearty feeling,
And are unable to touch the highest nail on the ceiling.
The sky laughs at the waves,
Greets them with a lop-sided grin,
Advising them to keep fit and trim.
The advancing waters kiss the shore line,
They want to be near the sand,
To get far and distant from the obstreperous ferry band.
The waters move with the tune of the air,
Creating loud and stringent blares.
The sand seeps gallons of water at the shore,
Acting as a good and natural utility bore,
The colossal sea waters eventually evaporate into a dark cloud,
That gives the sound of loud rumbling thunder,
Pelting down sheets of much awaited torrential rain,
To enrich and develop the oncoming food grain.
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