A poem | A Bold Symphony of the Waves

The bold waves –
Rolling in like drums;
a crashing symphony.
The conductor awash,
on a horizon without form.
Each new set of waves a contrast,
of crescendos and diminuendos.

Pounding ashore, breaking all defences,
taking everything boldly for a ride,
dumping it on the final crash.
Spectators watch on,
with anticipation and awe,
captivated at the show.

All the seats are free,
scattered along the coastline;
from driftwood logs to boulder sized rocks.
The air is scented with sea salt,
and the faint tendrils of smoke –
from the hearths of the houses,
positioned boldly on the coast.

There is not of a breath of wind,
even the wind chimes are silenced.
Today, the sea has centre stage,
all other elements – a captive audience.
The waves boldly crashing ashore,
with the full force of mother nature.