To where I watch on the yellow sands,
and they pluck sweet music with sea-cold hands.
They bring me coral and amber clear.
But when the stars in heaven appear,
their music ceases, they glide away.
They swim for their grottos across the bay.
Then listen only to my shrill tune,
the surfy tide, and the wondering moon.The sea maid
by Arthur Rackhammedium - photoshopCS & painter8
| size - 12x18 inches
| close ups at my website