Could clouds present the golden sea?
Could sun imagine waves?
Could moon, in tidal heavens set
Be bought by ocean caves?
No---this is a world of separate place
And paling ocean strands:
The skies remain their own, and then
The seas claim frigates grand.
The heavens can't contain the blue
Of foam, or dolphin's tune:
As such, the flowing frothing waves
Do not encase the Bloom
That struggles vainly to the sun---
So thin, the line is drawn
'Tween earth, and sky, and crashing sea:
The differentiated lawns!