Our earth

An ocean's rage,

harmonised, unheard,

gripping the ground beneath

while the moon is curt.

And the tide is high,

if only a lie,

amazed and bewildered,

curious, hurt.

Fruits adorned,

crowned their own,

sun on the lawn,

beckoning warmth.

Causing hearts to melt,

yet only felt,

by children who love

and live and yearn.

Playfully pondering,

naively wondering,

gaining an essence of innocence

in one's own existence.