The waters of the ocean,
Rise and then they fall..
The changing of direction,
Of its ebbs and flows.
High waters bring the fury,
With the rising sea..
Waves that crest much higher,
Crashing on the beach.
The tide now at its high mark,
Sands covered in white froth..
The rocks and jetties hidden,
All are out of sight.
The ocean takes a moment,
Rest in its repose..
Than starts its outward journey,
To some distant shore.
The waves are now but ripples,
Lapping on the beach ..
Slowly drawn far out to sea,
Exposing more the sand.
The rocks and jetties,
Once well hid,
Begin to break the surface..
The beach size now two fold.
The treasure hunters gather,
At the waters edge..
And walk along the shoreline,
To see what waves unearthed.
The time is short and fleeting,
This standing of the tide..
To seek out treasures left behind..
With the changing of the tides.