Shoreline

Watching for no one
A lone seagull cries

My eyes, my eyes.
My eyes are drawn skywards 

The gull swoops for fun

And I continue to search for the sun.
Undulating ululating sounds of the shore

The empty strand is never silent

I watch, listen for more
The fast running wavelets knock the sandpipers high

The tiny scavengers flitting to new hunting grounds

Where the tasty buried sandworms abound
Such hunting is a challenge for such tiny birds

One that humans have already faced

But standing alone on this solemn strand

My challenge is to put into words

How nature has all trace of humans erased  
 

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A Wednesday night in Spain

  
The lone walker on the bridge

Feels the cold shoulder of the breeze

He shuffles further from the edge, 

And muffles an uninvited sneeze.

The city shivers in the pre-spring chill, 

Failing to cope with change in clime.

The winds continue, the traffic still

The night time is the hardest time

A Wild and Gentle Lover

The wind can so often be subtle and sweet

The lover of wind must be light on his feet

He must dance along gaily with its gentle sough

And allow it to caress him from *neck to elbow

It will sigh like an satisfied lover one day

But its energy can never be wasted away

The days will come suddenly where kites it will fly,

And the cord like a garrotte will cause it to cry

It screams among power lines, antennae and vanes

It skirls up the litter and strews it down lanes

The wind has been known to be biting and cruel

The lover of wind is an innocent fool

That fool becomes breathless, excited and scared

Whenever his love’s cutting teeth they are bared

On sea or on land, there are many who say

That the wind is a mistress who will never stay.

For the wind it blows hard, above and beyond;

Of its freedom the wind is most jealously fond