Armageddon in a bowl
Thunder gallops, waters roll
Countless wolves howl in the sky
Blow down houses, growl and cry
Matt grey sky like old stale paint
Sobs like son of slaughtered saint
Weather wails, laments the day
Soaks the cliffs in tears of spray
Sky and sea both boil in rage
Tragedy on sand strewn stage
Scrawl a picture with the storm
Carve coast into madman form
Bitter chill bites scarce seen boat
Struggling to stay afloat
Placid place this never was
Peace, serene, unknown to us
Yet still we flock to headland’s edge
Gosling spirits here will fledge
Grizzled veteran surfer sorts
Breach the brine upon their boards
We stand rigid, bodies glow
Defiant ‘gainst the hammer blow
Gripping Gore-tex, clutching cloth
Cowering from the furious froth
Backs bent crooked, faces skinned
By razor rain and whip lash wind