Winter\'s Low Sun.
White caps on ocean like thick meringue crystal
coloured when pink broke through cloud cover
while Winter\'s low sun flooded each gap.
Dusk ran gilt breezes through cliff-top heather,
ruffled white harebells and blushed to russet
the storm-beaten tufts of toughened grass.
Naught hits my ears like eve\'s dying swan-song,
hearing riled waves crack on granite my eye
catches gull-roost seeking safe passage.
Wind still smacking stone I depart homeward,
sudden spilled gloaming set bleeding Night
sky while twilight draws blinds to relax.