Erik Mundall

August 1, 1995

Crystal Coasts

     Crowning waves come clashing
     Shaping sand strewn shore
     The speckled spray splashing
     Making mist and more

     With wild wet waterspouts
     As angry arrows aimed
     Drowning, downing doubts
     Sand's number now is named

     Pushing high proud portions
     Against the girded ground
     Tons of true contortions
     Around the Puget Sound

     Jumping, jostling, jaded
     And so the story goes
     Waves faltering, found faded
     Their throwing in the throes

     And calm and quiet, quelling
     The bathing breezes blow
     Switching soon the swelling
     To lulling lapping low

     And then again as when
     At first the foaming frops
     Hurling, heaving then
     Dashing dizziedly the drops

     God gave us great glimmers
     Of His harbor haven
     In the shining shimmers
     Like crystal coasts quite craven.

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