The sea can solicit a mother's compassion with a warm breaze across her moist blue bosom. Then her anger with indulgent, white, and foamed waves which can dwarf the majestic redwoods.
Guard ye, she is at first a cruel and selfish mistress. Even while on land she demands the attention of her captives. Her mark is upon them, nare do they feel sound lest it be within her embrace.
...
Still she is quick to jealous rage and will pull the uncareful to his wartery grave. He lost evermore deep within her cool and profane womb. Those whom he feeds with his labor forever doubtful of his conclusion.
Alas swaggering sailors born of broken and stout men will forever follow her siren song blind are they to her false charm. Pledging to her their devotion, their industry, their chastity.
Johnny V
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