An Ode To The Ocean

sea stars,
sea shells,
bright pink shades
of rings and bells.
on the sea shore,
I always want more
to make more time
for plays and rhymes.
the ocean is commotion,
a toxic potion.
mermaids sing
of many cute things
like mittens,
and kittens,
and crepes,
and drapes.
I'm so glad these aren't apes!
urchins are creepin'
and no one is sleepin'
a great big bash
of things to crash.
the sailors sail
from mail to mail
delivering pails
of many small snails.
the ocean is where I wanna be,
over there
by the sea.
I love you ocean!
I love you sea!
do you think, that they love me?
THE END!!!
p.s.
oops! no time to tell
I guess I'll just go ride a whale

I just have one question: is this supposed to be a nonsense poem?
another thing, maybe you could clarify what mail to mail means. other than that, looks good (unless you meant this to be a serious poem! LOL)

Ooh, this is a fun poem!

Sionarama wrote:the ocean is commotion,
a toxic potion.

Ocean/commontion/potion. I love it!

Sionarama wrote:mermaids sing
of many cute things
like mittens,
and kittens,
and crepes,
and drapes.
I'm so glad these aren't apes!

This seems a little bit random to me, does it to you? Of course, the whole poem is random, but it's about random ocean things. How did mittens and kittens and crepes and drapes get in there? What's wrong with apes? We are apes, aren't we? Just a thought.

Sionarama wrote:from mail to mail
delivering pails
of many small snails.
the ocean is where I wanna be,
over there
by the sea.
I love you ocean!
I love you sea!
do you think, that they love me?
THE END!!!
p.s.
oops! no time to tell
I guess I'll just go ride a whale

What is "from mail to mail?" I'm not particular to the whole post script part. I think it would confuse the reader. It would leave them thinking, "Was that actually part of the poem, or was it just some side note from the author?"

Overall, great poem, and I hope you'll look further into my advice!

Hello fellow authors!
Thank you for your comments!!
Let me explain a few things:
(1) is that this is a nonsense poem
(2) is that I wrote this at 12:00 am.
(3) is that mail to mail is like mail boxes to mail boxes sorta.. it just didn't rhyme.
(4) is that mittens, kittens, crepes, drapes are not in the ocean. Same with the apes.
(5) is that I love the post script!!!! I think it adds something...
thanks again for commenting!!!
CHOW FOR NOW,
sionarama

I didn't look at any other comments posted above me because I want to see your mistakes first hand. So if someone already told you this, SORRY! (: Well here I go;

Sionarama wrote:sea stars,
sea shells,
bright pink shades
of rings and bells. (Besides the capitalization how about you put here ;ringing bells? It flows better I think.)

(Let that part be your introduction to the poem, describing in vivid detail the sea. Then go on to your stanzas.)
On the sea shore,
I always want more-
to make more time-
for plays and rhymes. (Why do these two lines have no punctuation?)
The ocean is commotion,
a toxic potion. (Nice rhyming here.)
mermaids sing
of many cute things
like mittens,
and kittens,
and crepes,
and drapes.
I'm so glad these aren't apes!
urchins and creepin'
and no one is sleepin'
a great big bash
of things to crash.
the sailors sail
from mail to mail
delivering pails
of many small snails.
the ocean is where I wanna be,
over there
by the sea.
I love you ocean!
I love you sea!
do you think, that they love me?

It pretty much goes on like that forever, you have to correct your own mistakes or people will just think you have no idea what you're doing. I scraped up some pieces for you, now you pick up the rest. Keep writing!

This poem was definitely amusing. Actually, at the beginning I thought it was going to be serious and poetic, like most of my poems about the ocean; but then it kind of turned into an Owl City song. Haha. That's a good thing; it just startled me a little. Not all of it made sense, but I think you're aware of that so I won't harp on it. It was quite good to have been written at 12:00 in the morning. In fact, it seems that almost all good things are written at hours when normal people are sound asleep. Ah well; such is the life of The Writer.