An Oceanic Sonnet

It rose from the Deep, churning violently,
Spewing forth its contents; mist, drops of spray,
Upwards (mostly), drenching, distractingly.
'Twas the day the sea took my slipper away.

So soft on the skin in the mornings bright,
Cold, liquid invigoration; Cleansing.
Yet through ancient stone of unequalled might,
It cuts and scrapes, a brutal dispensing.

Too lazy, am I, to write four more lines,
And so you must bear,
With these words of mine.

So mighty a force, there is none rather,
So satiate the beast! Throw in the other!

...

ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
10 syllables.
Iambic pentameter...?

Not quite.