The Waves I Call Home.

I put my ear to a seashell
Laying on my dresser
I close my eyes
I realize
I'm there...

The warmed soft sand
In my hair
I lay on the shore
And outward I stare

At the endless waves
The crash
Then the pull

My soul it always saves,
always calm
It soothes me.

The hot summer sun
Beats down on my flesh
I like the warmth
That seeps through my bathing suit mesh.

The bluest of skies
The summer breeze alone,
Can carry a person
To a great place called home.

There home,
A place inside,
Where everything is right,
Calm
Nice,
Waves.

The waves,
oh the waves,
The music to my ears.
You take me away
To a place without fears.

The beach of a world
Where all is good
Is a beach we can all visit
If we just stop,
and take the time,
to erase thoughts,
of worry,
of stress,
of despair,
and regress,
to a state of mind of complete relaxation

and picture yourself,
laying on a beach
with the bluest of skies
and visit that place,
the place you call home.

And the waves hold the answer,
the answer you already know.
The waves are the answer,
the place you call home.

And I set the seashell down
Back in this mad world.
But I always know
If I need to escape
I can visit the waves
The waves, I, they save.

I walk away.
In a calmer place,
With pictures,
Fresh in mind,
Of a sandy beach,
that's always in reach.