Whispers

O break you waves, break Over the sandy beach in the bay That I may hear you speak Of the oceans great story today. The fisherman, his line out to sea, The boy flying his kite on high, People on the ferry do see The Mumbles go sliding by. O for the touch of your tiny hand Never more to be held so dearly, The walk along the beach so grand, My mind on softer times so clearly. Only the wind and waves do speak Telling me their tales of travelling far, The wind over my head does streak With the waves crashing over the bar.