I must go down to the sea again

Says the old poem.

And I know why

Beauty and violence

Gentle lapping wavelets

And white horses.

Frantic families

Lost sailors

Storms and waves

So high they reach up, up

To the sky.

Birds skim the surface

Grab fish in their beaks

Puffins and Skewers

Cormorants and Choughs

Ever changing

Sometimes boring

I must go there again.