On one of my trips to the southland,
I came across a curious place,
In a long dance of sea and sand,
Here, the land and sea embrace.
.
Marbled in white from nearby reef,
She stalks along the shore,
Nimble, like Fall carrying a leaf
I met her here, just like before.
.
You see, on the high tide,
In come the golden trevally,
Coming in on a free ride.
For a mere hour, they do not dally.
.
When tide’s crest, and winds abate,
The golden trevally she sees
As she stands watchful in wait,
Move quickly, like on a breeze.
.
Her name? Georgia! Not Sally…
Not Lisa, Beth or Michelle,
It’s Georgia, oh yes, really!
But her name, she would not tell!
.
Even from far away down the sand,
I could see that her eyes glowed,
Brighter than the sun across the land,
And deeper than the water showed.
.
And later, peering deep into her eyes
I could see though,
Out to where the last breeze sighs,
Into a sky too blue.
.
Past her eyes, through sand, water and sky,
There, they glide, dart, barely appear,
Like they were ready to fly,
But dance on with hardly a care.
.
A slender, sickle-shaped tail
Waving to the sky,
catching her eye
Always eluding without fail.
.
Oh yes, the day I got her name
Out there in the blue and white,
Salty haze, playing her waiting game,
Suddenly with a fish on the fight!
.
I had to, right then and there,
Just her name I wanted,
Before all this vanished into thin air
Leaving me taunted.
.
Shaken Rain 