The Ocean Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The Ocean

When he heard, I had been a seafarer he wanted to know about
the ocean, “write it down for me, ” he said...What nerve.
The ocean has many colours one of them is blue, sometimes it is
like a mud and often it is black with shattering of greenness like
a spring day in the Alps. There are times when it a watery Swiss,
enormous white topped waves bearing down on your ship that
shudders like a wet dog and only nuns keep their calm they have
lived a chaste life and expect to be handed a pair of wings should
things go wrong. There the is golden morning ocean, that blinks like
a million golden ducats are floating on its silky surface, not to forget
the moon casting its dark mystic upon the ocean trying to drag you
into its strange mysteriousness. I could not tell him this because at
the time I was thinking of being in an oak forest chasing squirrels and
raiding their larders of nuts.