Where the continent is slowly sliding,
into the ocean's constant wild surf,
where the waves are for surf gliding.

Where no longer the cliffs meet the sea,
a strip of sandy beach forms for thee,
where the hardy come year-round with glee.

For the current offshore down from the north,
brings with it Arctic temperatures come forth,
and the wind coming off the sea bracing be.

With insulated scuba suit on the water is fine,
surfers find the big waves as sweet as fine wine,
as they wait for days for huge waves and pine.

While the cliffs slowly crumble into the sea,
make new sand for the beaches to be,
perpetual change that only time can see.

Days when the hot breath of land hits the cold,
creating a mist covering the coastline to unfold,
only seals venture and the brave and bold.

But best of all when the evening comes along,
lovers are walking out on the cliffs or beach,
while the sunset displays grandeur and song.

Won't you come and watch the sunset with me?
Where the beach bonfire burns for us to warm?
Or in each other's arms cliffside high we'll be?

Will you come with me to Sunset Beach
where the waves are mighty and the gulls
screech? It's hard to reach.

eMail Me
More Poems
My Place

Copyright 2022 © Ronald W. Hull

7/22/22

It's in the Water and Other Stories

American Mole: The Vespers

Verge of Apocalypse Tales