Like a professional surfer riding on top of a quick wave,
Like an amateur bodysurfer being dumped buy this same wave,
Like a life saver out on this first mission to life-save,
We all try hard to attain a high ranking in our sports of career.
As you hear sometimes the thunderous crashing of waves upon still rocks,
As you hear the echoing of light waves reaching the seaside,
As you see the ocean’s distance,
And wonder from where do they commence!
The physical aspect, the strength that is show,
The composite attitude towards one’s personal goal,
The support that is given and enormousity of the publicity,
Is what makes a boy a man and a girl a woman.
Tears of tiredness, over exercising total energy,
Or laughs of joy for an excellent result,
But out into surfing the real fun begins,
With all kinds of surf craft floating all over the place.
You hear one expert converse with his mate,
‘Out there today, there’s not much chop!’
Or a joyous conversation with his same mate, next day,
‘Gees it’s really good out there. It’s choice!’
Surfing like a surfer catching the best of waves,
Being tossed around whilst catching one wave,
To have saltwater from the sea continuously splashing on your face,
Is to make me wonder why they do surf?
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