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The sea



Rhythmically playing atonal tunes
With pebbles and sand
The blue planets
Circling band
Washes in to each border shore
Slowly surely taking
A little more
Breaking
Year by year by year by patient year
More inroads to ancient beach
 Showing once proud cliff
Not beyond reach
Of mystic powers
Constantly extending tides
In concert with white cold moon
Ever there even though it sometime hides
Spreading
What it reaches
To foreign shores
And more distant beaches
Moulding
In its random form
New coastlines that become
An accepted transient passing norm
By atonal tunes
Played on the land
Rhythmically slowly surely
By the blue planets watery circling band






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