The waves were turquoise and a froth sea white
The feathered beaks knew its raging hostility
startling and squawking into the dusk night

Obeying the mistress. The slamming into
The barnicle seaweed rocks.! Was enough
to not look back to salvage their lives

Their crys trailing. The odour was salty,
pungent, It filled the salted sky the clumpy
Seaweed clinging for their lives

Sunlight sparkling on wet leaves and mud
in the chill ache of a December day,
cycling hard to catch you up
I slipped and fell.

My elbow smacked the ground. I heard its bang
but on rising realised only damp
caked on soil and gravel covered
my smarting side.

There was no break, just grazes, dirt and deep
shame that balance had deserted me
along the way.

Swift moving clouds meet the rain
Now the frost is in the making
Out comes the flakes we love
With designs that are so varied
Snow fall to the ground in abundance
To paint the earth pure white
Ordering the wind to blow harder
Rain finds the frost and mates
Making wind and snow form a storm

In my fragile youth he found me shaking,
like a loveless lily growing wild.
He touched my hollow heart, already breaking,
and nurtured me, his naked, nameless child.

To my eyes he blazed like vision blinding;
beautiful in feature, form and face;
fellowship with him and friendship finding;
I grew up on godliness and grace.

Till those clouds of glory I’d been trailing
died, one day, as Queen Aurora rose.
The youth in me, turned man, whose faith was failing
felt no more, my feelings all had froze.