I stand at the edge of the harbor
Looking down at the blue liquid
Waves humming a proverbial tune
Reaching down to the water
It laps softly against my hand
Its cool breath caresses morning
Breathing in the moist air
Tasting the pleasure of early dew
The wind slowly walking past
I catch but a breeze of its presence
Glancing up at the pink mist
Blushing, the sun slowly shows its face
Covering the horizon’s scope
The pleasure reaches my soul
Sending a quiver down my spine
I hold onto the image
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