White, wooden, sunlit masts stand great and tall, like wise old sea-men remembering and recounting whaling battles of their exciting youth. Ships rock back and forth, softly calming and creakily singing to their warm cargo as a mother does her newborn child. The bleached seagulls fly, quietly chattering amongst themselves as though spreading great bird gossip, looking down and fixing their appearances in the glassy, mirror-like water below them.
The sea eavesdrops on conversations, and I, listening carefully, can hear the soft scratching of their quills as they document the events overheard, and watch as the frothy overflow of their white ink peaks at the crests of waves. The ocean strains, reaching closer and closer towards the hot, sandy ground, longing to hear more tales concerning the world of land. Sipping my bubbly, brown coffee, content with the magnitude of the beauty I have observed, I return to my beckoning lunch.
Beautiful 💕
I was into the scene that you described so so so beautifully.
'The bleached seagulls fly, quietly chattering amongst themselves as though spreading great bird gossip.'
This is where I want to be you know. 😊
Amazing 💕
Keep Writing 👮
Beautiful imagery break. I might suggest considering if similies or metaphor might serve you better in a few places.
I enjoyed the reaction of the person I am joining on this little journey. Listening in on conversations, along with the sea. Clever and unique parallel.
I believe I am staring in the face of greatness. And overwhelming talent in such a youthful vessel. A young master wordsmith. Indeed. Bravo. Exquisite diction, each word is so carefully precariously perfect. Yet the effect is breathless and seemingly effortless.
Excuse me while I take a moment to relish in the feeling of being on a harbor. All in all, the descriptions were very satisfying and depicted a fluent and elegant image.
This of course speaks to anyone who has stood by a harbour and watched it breathe. The sentence "Ships rock back and forth, softly calming and creakily singing to their warm cargo as a mother does her newborn child." is particularly descriptive, imaginative and captivates.
I so love the format that you have here and the description of everything, really makes me feel like I am on the harbor at this moment. I really love the lines here: "Ships rock back and forth, softly calming and creakily singing to their warm cargo as a mother does her newborn child. The bleached seagulls fly, quietly chattering amongst themselves as though spreading great bird gossip, looking down and fixing their appearances in the glassy, mirror-like water below them. " They create such meaning and I can so feel the imagery and everything! This is beautiful prose!