Waves crash gently upon the shore,
Each rise and retreat, whispering lore.
Pebbles shuffled by the tide’s soft embrace,
The ocean’s rhythm sets a tranquil pace.

Seagulls cry above, a call to the free,
While dreams wash ashore, like shells from the sea.
Here on this canvas, where land meets the blue,
Nature’s artistry breathes life anew.

• T S Eliot