A take on Guardian’s “ The sea hath fish for every man”

A  take on Guardian’s  “ The  sea  hath fish for every man”

The  sea  hath fish  for  every man,

The  wind  blows  cool  for  all,

The  crabs  glide  in and out  the  sand dunes,

Gnarling  waves  pose  a  threat 

If  they  would  cross  the boundary

Swamp the  city  with  its  heavy  toll.

The frothy  foams  inculcate   a fear

In  every  man, whose   net  caught  a bite.

 I am  before  the  edge  of  the  beach,

 Dismayed  by the  breaking of   the waves

Tossing  up  and  down,

Luck  and  loss are  nothing 

Before  this   tricky  Dame  of   watery  Cove

Who  formulates, rings    the rickety

Move   of  our  life.  The  Blue  nourishes

The  fins  and  pearls  and  oysters.

Now  Never  and Then, each has

Its   meaning and mode.