The beating sole

Sitting idle along the beating sole

Pause myself to clear my soul

Beating my tongue a rhythm of its own

Never let's me fail to wonder furthermore

Sitting idle along the beating sole

Procrastination has no major role    

Gazing by night, sparkling white gold

A maze of its own knitted across the dark shores

Sitting idle along the beating sole

Periods of lull begin to sow

Watching these caves break its foam

Under the Reflecting silver of its own

Sitting idle along the beating sole

Pursuit’s of shimmering sear from the winding foam

Scuttle to the drums, as you taste its bitters gulp

Begin to ponder beyond the horizon furthermore.