Cold, brisk winds begin to freeze,

Moistened salt upon the breeze.

Crashing waves beneath the sky,

The water's rolling lullaby.

Gritty sands beneath my feet,

Ocean and horizon meet.

Storm clouds come and lie grey,

Day after forlorn day.

Weathered rocks for all of time,

Ocean's eternal pantomime.

Sharp shells cut and salt will heal,

Each passing minute: so surreal.

Gull's call ceases to morn,

A silent smile to ocean's scorn.

The winds still to pause and wait,

What each wave will anticipate.

Soft clouds begin to seep,

Those below are drowning deep.

Harsh wet swells begin to form,

And the calm before the storm.