One hat, two hoods, my hand holds down,
as driving winds bombard me.
I reach the shore, I love these times;
with no one else around for miles.

Blue ‘sailors’ stranded on the rocks;
a simple, early life form,
brought in by last night’s fiercesome gale,
like turquoise unrolled condoms.

Within this cove, the wind is blocked,
but waves storm in regardless.
I’ve never seen them arc so high;
huge towering domes of glassy green.

But now I watch them splume and spill,
tumble, rumble,
vaporise,
thunder, plunder,
terrorise,
smash and pound
and tantalise.
Grab one’s eyes and mesmerise.
Rush and crush and pulverise,
towards this rock strewn beach.

And air-light foam flies off like snow,
then rests on ground, soft frothy gold.

My fevered, hurting, weary mind
is calmed,
then fueled with potency.
A huge grin spreads across my face
for now I’m full of some rare charge.

That low down need to cry and scream
is vanished by this crazied sea.
This striking show of nature’s power
is blissful soothing balm to me.

• * *

Better than coffee,
better than speed,
- the surging rush from stormy seas.

By Alfie, Nov 06