THE SAVAGE SEAHORE
(C)1995 By PauL L. Glaze
Out in the ocean far miles away,
There is a commotion on watersway.
The disturbance is dismal, dark and surreal.
A circular turbulence, to real to conceal.
A vortex is swirling, gaining power each day.
Its clouds are curling in a cyclonic play.
Starting storms gather strength in this way
By ravishing waters to an oceans dismay.
It towers toward land with powers untame.
This turbulent band is now, Hurricane!
You may call it a hurricane.
But Seahore will be its proper name.
Its seeds are sewn, as wicked winds wail
The seahore has grown to a colossal gale.
It will ravish the land in a harlots dance.
And destroy all who impedes its advance.
A fight to resist it goes for naught.
Low lands languish to the seahores assault
Massive trees fall, a shore land will die.
Beneath the violet call of the seahores cry.
Where once so proud the stoutly stood
Beauteous boats of teakish wood.
Splintered boards now blown stray
Are strewn about to decay away.
Tumultuous tornadoes raging wild.
A brusque birth of the seahores child.
Great lines of power and fiberglas
Lay scattered about on soggy grass.
Of things ashore it hungers to feast
Inland it roars toward man and beast.
Its winds of high, ravish the sky
Nothing will escape its devilish cry.
It will soon die only to rise again
As an ocean gives birth to the seahores twin.
The savage seahore screams in candor,
Shorelander ! Your time is due,
I now come for you !
