A gentle serenade begins to be,
Whispers of waves, a timeless tune,
A symphony that the sea has coo'd.
From the depths where the light scarce dwells,
To the surface where the sea spills its spells,
Each crest a note, each trough a rest,
A rhythm that life itself has dressed.
The dance of the dolphins, a playful jest,
The sea's own laughter, a joyous quest,
They leap and twist, the music's part,
A living ode to the ocean's heart.
The seagulls' cries, a high-pitched choir,
Their wings, the punctuation, precise and dire,
They soar and dive, the sea's own band,
A rapturous fanfare in nature's grand.
The stars at night, a celestial sight,
Reflected in the sea's embrace, so bright,
A silent concert, a cosmic waltz,
Amidst the darkness, the sea's own ballad.
The moon's soft glow, a silver bow,
That pulls the tides, the sea's dance floor,
A lunar ballet, a silent show,
The sea's own muse, the night's majesty pro.
The eternal serenade of the seas,
A song that outlives history's fleeting phases,
A melody that time cannot erase,
The ocean's voice, forever it does embrace.