Your love is inconstant
and I’m uncertain if I care.

Your moods roll like the Pacific
and I am just a shell.

I have washed up on your shore
like a man once lost at sea.

My soul cries out for yours.
Won’t you set these seabirds free?

In the low tide of my life.
I hope to find you there.

Sparkling in the sun
like a pearly glint of shell.

The Pacific is inconstant and uncertain like the soul of man.

The Trembling of a Leaf. Little Stories of the South Sea Islands by William Somerset Maugham