Beside
Doonbristy's
lined
brow
we
walked

by
blowholes
deep

booming
doom
laden
blow
holes
guarded
by
furze
banks
lined
with
slippery
sliding
moss

resonant
harbingers
of
instant
bone
shattering
death

yet
in
this solitude
this calm
you
picked
bog cotton
for
my hair
I gave
you
a pink
heather
spray

tenderness
love
trust

unquestioning
unquestioned

amidst
the fury
below
gulls
circled
screeching
at
gliding
above
fishing
in
the
crashing
tumultuous
foment

Atlantic rage

ageless
moments
of
utter
joy
in
life
itself

01/24/2006

Posted on 01/24/2006
Copyright © 2024 Peter Humphreys