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bob-hortonPoems
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
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Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
High Summer, Polzeath
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
bob-horton
Written by
bob-horton
English
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
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