The Beauty of a Storm

 

Andrew Shiston

 

I look toward the fading dark horizon

There is no line between the sea and sky

Clouds appear to drift as stately icebergs

The dark nimbus and Island drifting by

The sinking sun melts in golden streams

Meandering with the blues and greens

Sinks and sucks the lightness, a switch

Plunging daylight below the horizon

As if the day had never been

 

I look toward the now dark horizon

Above on a dark blue littered canvas

Light as though a million glow worms

March and find their place, a glowing face

A plough, a big and little bear, a cross

And from the seas the moon rises from its sleep

A glowing orb, an off white face of chalk

Sending silver chariots of dancing light

Across the dark black sea

 

I look toward the black horizon

The gathering storm clouds

Spread their hands across her grinning face

Leaving lonely shafts of light

That spears the blackness of the sea

Spotlights on gigantic spume filled waves

The coming drama we watch for free

Below my feet the throbbing life

We the gladiator against the sea

 

I look toward the unseen horizon

Spindrift obscures our pounding bows

Black waves surge across our sinking decks

The screaming wind, a hurricane grows

With the wind come enormous seas

We climb, and then burst out through a trough

Our stern lifts from the waters clutch

Propellers scream, and then bite again

Is this the storm that is to much.

 

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