This is a poem in attempt to emulate the style in which lewis caroll writes. : It was origionally for an assignment.
The waves they beat against the boat,
Shockingly strong and mean.
As it drifts in the center,
Of a sea of green.
Then the water turns to blue,
Suddenly light and cool.
It lulls away the fear,
The sailors will it fool?
Yes a masquerade is made
With bottles thrown overboard.
But do not worry those who care,
They will get a reward.
For rapidly the water boils
The waves begin to clout,
The sea it feels pain and anger,
What is this about?
It twists, it turns, it trickles,
It flows, it gushes, it beats.
It brings entire worlds to war,
Harboring entire fleets.
It saves. It kills.
Portrays many things.
Bringing about good times
The sunny weather brings.
But oh the sadness in its grasp,
Ashes thrown in its shadowy path.
And those who give charcoal received,
In watery, taciturn, depth.
A trickle in their eyes they feel,
Becoming equally wet.
Oceans full, seas and lakes,
Ponds and puddles and drops.
Envision if it all dried up
Rotation would freeze and stop.
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