The tide and I had stopped to chat
About the waves where seabirds sat,
About the yachts with bobbing sails
And quite enormous, spouting whales.
The tide has lots to talk about.
Sometimes it’s in. Sometimes it’s out.
For something you must understand,
It’s up and down across the sand;
Sometimes it’s low and sometimes high,
It’s very wet and never dry.
The tide, quite crossly, said: ‘The sea
Is always out there pushing me.
And just when I am feeling slack,
It sends me in then drags me back.
It never seems to let me go.
I rise. I fall. I’m to and fro.’
I told the tide, ‘I know it’s true
For I am pushed around like you.
And really do they think it’s fair?
Do this. Do that. Come here. Go there.’
Then loudly came my parents’ shout.
So I went in.
The tide went out.
Source: The ABC Book of Australian Poetry: a treasury for young people compiled by Libby Hathorn (ABC Books 2010)