Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
Mots clés sea mariner creatures slimy
Had I told the sea
What I felt for you,
It would have left its shores,
Its shells,
Its fish,
And followed me.
Mots clés love fish sea feelings shore
Now I remembered a captain's honor and his only duty: to bring his crew back alive.
Carsten JensenMots clés sea duty ocean honor sailing honour
The dangers of the sea should always take precedence
over the violence of the enemy’
Rear-Admiral Ben Bryant CB, DSO and two bars, DSC
Mots clés history wwii sea maritime ships ww2 submarine royal-navy naval
The sea is full of saints. You know that? You know that: you're a big boy.
The sea's full of saints and it's been full of saints for years. Since longer than anything. Saints were there before there were even gods. They were waiting for them, and they're still there now.
Saints eat fish and shellfish. Some of them catch jellyfish and some of them eat rubbish. Some saints eat anything they can find. They hide under rocks; they turn themselves inside out: they spit up spirals. There's nothing saints don't do.
Make this shape with your hands. Like that. Move your fingers. There, you made a saint. Look out, here come another one! Now they're fighting! Yours won.
There aren't any big corkscrew saints anymore, but there are still ones like sacks and ones like coils, and ones like robes with flapping sleeves. What's your favourite saint? I'll tell you mine. But wait a minute, first, do you know what it is makes them all saints? They're all a holy family, they're all cousins. Of each other, and of ... you know what else they're cousins of?
That's right. Of gods.
Alright now. Who was it made you? You know what to say.
Who made you?
Mots clés religion saints sea kraken
An aching vacuum inside her sucking the air from her lungs. She hung her head and wept fiercely, the emptiness inside her growing larger not smaller; she felt as though it would grow so large it would suffocate her just as surely as the sea would have
Alan BrennertMots clés sea emptiness aching suffocate
I’m engaged in the dance of the ages and the search for a song to go with it. Though Templeton’s A Veritable Smorgasbord is a well-deserving classic, it’s a stanza too short for my morphing existence. So I write my own.
Chila WoychikMots clés writing sea rats seafaring smorgasbord templeton-rat
The sea can do craziness, it can do smooth, it can lie down like silk breathing or toss havoc shoreward; it can give gifts or withhold all; it can rise, ebb, froth like an incoming frenzy of fountains, or it can sweet-talk entirely. As I can too, and so, no doubt, can you, and you.
Mary OliverMots clés poetry power nature sea
As the sun disappeared below the horizon and its glare no longer reflected off a glassy sea, I thought of how beautiful the sunsets always were in the Pacific. They were even more beautiful than over Mobile Bay. Suddenly a thought hit me like a thunderbolt. Would I live to see the sunset tomorrow?
Eugene B. SledgeMots clés war sea the-pacific
I had fought on behalf of man against the sea, but I realised that it had become more urgent to fight on behalf of the sea against men.
Alain BombardMots clés fight environmentalism sea
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