By the looks of the sand dunes on the Pacific shore
The wind has been playing since the sun opened the door.
Now the breeze is strong enough to create a mist on the waves
If I were to hum a song the water moves to all of the octaves.
There is a steady row of ripples bringing them to the sand
No stop, no pause just rolling constantly like a jazz band.
At night from my bedroom I hear the waves as they pounce
Sounds have stopped for the day, yet the ocean continues to bounce.
Keeping time with a waltz, rumba, lindy and any other tune
The movement is ceaseless, tireless through the night with the moon.
If drums were playing the crashing of the wave would overcome
The percussion impact would be very minimal in comparison.