Sunday Sonnet!

He sits in stillness, somnolent, and stares
Into the setting sun’s declining rays,
Divested from the day’s disabling cares,
The breathless air an inner calm conveys;
Upon the gentle, rocking, rippling, waves,
Serene seagulls submit to Neptune’s charms,
Whose guile the hapless fisherman enslaves,
Or victims of outrageous storms embalms;
Thus be the course of floating ship of thought,
Unanchored, at behest of lilting breeze,
Effectuating consequences unsought,
To leave mere mortal man wonder with ease;
Convergence of the setting sun and sea,
Precipitates relaxing reverie.

©Meanderings 2016