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Of course the waves crash, ruthlessly   Ploughing away at…

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Of course the waves crash, ruthlessly

 

Ploughing away at the land

 

And throwing the seaweed, whose lonely

 

Green fingers grasp at the sand

 

It offers no help at all.

 

 

The seagulls swoop, expectant and knowing

 

And the sand still says nothing

 

Slipping away with the tide,

 

 

 

The Cliffs watch from afar, quiet and helpless

 

For they can do nothing but erode.


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