An Incomplete Poem

By Rimjhim Nigam

The vastitude of the sea infront,

the sun that is setting high.

The sneaking sand my hands confront,

as I sit solely and take a sigh.

The waves that fluently come,

kiss my feet but then go by.

I try to entice a few or some,

to come and sit gazing the sky.

A ripple is incredibly what,

they seem to deliver my way.

Mates with sand in an unfought,

clash and there nothing lay.

The verses I effortlessly seek,

to decorate my life's rhythm.

I cannot find them sleek,

leaving behind an incomplete poem.

By Rimjhim Nigam