Maybe a sealess shore
The wailing seagulls circle slow
and dip their sunbright breasts
over billowing sands or foaming crests
on the roof of the ocean floor.
Above this world of childish bent
stretches a hazy firmament
a fathomless night, strange-patterned stars
the sky seagreen of deepest shade
a night where love could never cease
no eye to see its endless peace.
But here the sea sweeps on the shore
I live upon its other side
The place I love you do abide
across the ocean floor I've flown.
The gulls still cry above its crest
I clutch a feather to my chest
The feather is silver shining grey
and leaden as a stone.
This poem's not mine, though I wish I could write that well; it's called "Reverie" and it's by Ingrid Berg (she posted at the messageboard I used to go to)
I took this during a walk around the lake last spring
and this was at the aquarium.