The Grass Isn’t Greener

The grass isn’t greener on the other side anymore.

It isn’t under me either,

I have learnt to love the sand on the shore.

Softer than silk and just warm enough to bury your feet,

It is where the sun and the ocean meet.

That’s when the boats decide to leave the land,

They say, “That’s how you find pearls and make a strand”.

Apparently, they prefer to dance through the wavy waters,

Even though the sea animals are friendly,

They don’t shiver during the slaughters.

Although, during an unwarned storm at sea,

My boat trembles under me.

As the roaring waters gush on my deck,

I pray for strength, Strength to survive the wreck.

No, I don’t pray to get me away from the angry skies,

I pray for strength, that’s where my power lies.

Slowly the clouds change from grey to blue,

Yes, my wooden boat can survive a storm along with the slightest due.

Then we finally return home and pack up for the day,

Just in time to watch the moonlit bay.

I am glad the grass isn’t greener on the other side,

Because I am falling in love with the sand with every stride.