The wind swept towards us
As it coaxed against the tide
The waves they seemed relentless
With not an ebb in sight
So we battened down are hatches
And turned towards the shore
Carried by a current
That showed its power once more
Our bow it lifted gently
As it rode upon the surf
Which thrush us without glory
On its crest of breaking spurt
We danced upon this motion
As the clouds began to sigh
Then the seagulls up above us
Gave out a lilting cry
A perfect wave in structure
Cast us on the land
Then we fasten down our mooring
In respect of the oceans hand.
PTT
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