The island is surrounded by ocean

Tristan craned his neck, but not before Fred suddenly looked over at us, turned 17 shades of red and ducked behind a palm tree, busily arranging tortilla chips in little anally retentive rows.

There's no miniature / In her fair face, but is a copious theme / Which would, discoursed at large of, make a volume.

Incy wincy spider, climbing up the spout. Down came the rain, and washed poor Incy out!