Sounding like a curse, Waves greeting, then disperse. A stretch of land, one-Pebble, sand. A towel nap, you’re burnt.

Child of the glacier, now wed to the river and seas, wear your towering crowns of earth with pride. Remember fondly your landlocked siblings, and gather up your hanging valleys. Now, run, Child, headlong into the loving embrace of the basin, filled to the brim with brackish water.

I’m red, white, and blue, And checkered, too. Red, green, and white Also serve to delight!

Silent collectors of rain and river, they mirror the sky's gaze and cradle islands within their gentle embrace.

Where porcelain thrones stand in rows, known for graffiti and echoes. A place of necessity in bustling towns, not meant for lounging or crowns.