Waves

I watch the waves
And am reminded of women.
They softly wash against me.
The waves forever come
Against the piers
And so subtely spread out
Upon the sandy shore.
No two I see are alike,
Each is unique in her own way.
Tender memories flood back and
Wonderful fantasies bubble up with each one.
When the waves get angry and insane,
What's born is a hurricane.
They either storm ashore or
Ponder about indecisively out at sea.
This is the reason,
As all men know
And the seacoast fears,
Why hurricanes are named after women.