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To a MoonSeamaresThe pounding sea's oft in my dreamsand its mists around me pour,The silvery sphere of moon prevailsto pull upon my shore;To crush my hopes and dreams of sandand empty me once more.
Sometimes...Somewhere Oil SlicksAs yellow smears of dyingCast upon a once blue skyWe sit in our complacencydeaf to the mournful cry.The cry from our own coastlineWith its stinking coat of oilThe once white beach deserted now,replaced by blackened oil.I sit and dream of all the daysI've roamed the beaches thereI've walked the sands along the shorewithout a thought or care.Ah! Then to watch the death of beautyAs- cast up from the seaComes a blackened stench of oily scum,a man-made tragedy.Oh, I've suffered as a witnessTo the mournful, desolate cryOf seabirds circling overheadAS they watch their own mates die.Not a death of noble graceFor a creature of the airBut, death upon a blackened beachSoaked
and dying there.I've watched the silver glitterfishCompanions in the seaLie choking, rotting in the sunwhen once they had been free.Now, I watch the death of landAs, cast up from the seaThat blackened stench of oily scumThat man-made tragedy.