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The wind blew out and the sea rolled in By the cliffs and the curving beach, A lonely stretch, they were kith and kin And had never heard human speech, A cottage grew by the shore one day There were figures of surly men, The sea had muttered, ‘They’re in my bay,’ And the wind replied, ‘Amen!’ The men had left but the cottage stayed Like a wound to the ocean’s pride, It split the wind at the valley floor As it passed there, either side, The sea said ‘blow it away my friend, For it grieves my heart to see, The works of man where I lap the sand,’ And the wind said, ‘Leave it to me!’ It soughed and soared at the eventime And it scored with sand from the beach, It struggled to topple the chimney pots As it surged at one and each, It lost its puff as the sun came up When the tide was on the ebb, ‘I couldn’t move it a jot,’ it sighed, ‘And the roof, it felt like lead.’ ‘We’ll wait for the winter tides,’ my friend, ‘I’ll surge and wash it away, I’ll undermine its foundations, then I’ll sweep it out in the bay.’ But then a flickering candle lit From a window, facing the shore, ‘There’s something a-move, for a shadow flit Last night through the cottage door!’ The sea had grumbled, ‘We’ll wait and see What lingers there in the light,’ The wind peered in at the window pane And sighed at the wondrous sight, ‘A creature there with its golden hair And its eyes, a deep sea blue, That set me quivering in their stare, So what will they do to you?’ The morning saw at the cottage door A woman all dressed in white, She wandered along the empty shore And the sea had gulped, ‘You’re right!’ He lapped his waters around her feet As she waded in for a swim, And said to the wind, ‘She’s warm and sweet, And it’s sad, but you can’t come in!’ Back on the beach, a gentle breeze Had whispered the woman dry, Then flitted, scurrying out to sea, ‘You’ve changed your tune, but why?’ ‘I think we needed that cottage there, In reflection, let it stand.’ The wind just capered along the shore As the door of the cottage slammed. David Lewis Paget
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 4:04 AM UTC
The Intruder
The wind blew out and the sea rolled in By the cliffs and the curving beach, A lonely stretch, they were kith and kin And had never heard human speech, A cottage grew by the shore one day There were figures of surly men, The sea had muttered, ‘They’re in my bay,’ And the wind replied, ‘Amen!’ The men had left but the cottage stayed Like a wound to the ocean’s pride, It split the wind at the valley floor As it passed there, either side, The sea said ‘blow it away my friend, For it grieves my heart to see, The works of man where I lap the sand,’ And the wind said, ‘Leave it to me!’ It soughed and soared at the eventime And it scored with sand from the beach, It struggled to topple the chimney pots As it surged at one and each, It lost its puff as the sun came up When the tide was on the ebb, ‘I couldn’t move it a jot,’ it sighed, ‘And the roof, it felt like lead.’ ‘We’ll wait for the winter tides,’ my friend, ‘I’ll surge and wash it away, I’ll undermine its foundations, then I’ll sweep it out in the bay.’ But then a flickering candle lit From a window, facing the shore, ‘There’s something a-move, for a shadow flit Last night through the cottage door!’ The sea had grumbled, ‘We’ll wait and see What lingers there in the light,’ The wind peered in at the window pane And sighed at the wondrous sight, ‘A creature there with its golden hair And its eyes, a deep sea blue, That set me quivering in their stare, So what will they do to you?’ The morning saw at the cottage door A woman all dressed in white, She wandered along the empty shore And the sea had gulped, ‘You’re right!’ He lapped his waters around her feet As she waded in for a swim, And said to the wind, ‘She’s warm and sweet, And it’s sad, but you can’t come in!’ Back on the beach, a gentle breeze Had whispered the woman dry, Then flitted, scurrying out to sea, ‘You’ve changed your tune, but why?’ ‘I think we needed that cottage there, In reflection, let it stand.’ The wind just capered along the shore As the door of the cottage slammed. David Lewis Paget
david-lewis-paget
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 4:04 AM UTC
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