Their analysis: 

It is very sing-songy,

no one likes rhymes anymore.

Of course, the end-stop lines don't help.

It seems very... antique.

Simple diction,

simple words,

simple rhymes.

They're almost cliche, but not quite.

I like the first stanza.

And the third.

And I like the darkness that is brought in

with the ocean.

But why do you start out wanting a house

and then continue to talk about it

like you already have it?

And why, if you don't have it,

do you spend the whole poem as an invitation?

Kirsten's advice:

read the poem backwards.

You might see something useful.

Like, this way, it would begin with solitude.

My analysis:

The poem is sing-songy,

like the ebb and flow of the ocean.

The simple rhymes, simple diction,

simple words

make it easy to get caught up

hypnotized, even,

by the flow.

It feels like a lullaby.

Until you listen to the content

and realize that it wakes you up,

like the ocean can

when it laps against the side of your boat

too hard,

unaware of its own strength.

As for needing and having,

inviting...

Don't you know it's all a dream or distant wish

that we can't pretend our way through alone?

They say:

You can't talk about grounding and rootedness

in a place you don't already have.

It doesn't make sense.

Grounding and rootedness means 

you have to have been there for a while.

I say:

False.

If that were true,

I would be a toppling tree.