Sea Storms Sonnet

The fresh moist evening breeze brushes past, fluttering the pale blue curtains hung over the window, bringing with it the smell of the sea, and the oncoming storm.

The sky of the horizon is menacing and dark, with large rolling grey clouds, yet brings this delightful cool breeze, and the welcome smell of rain.

The waves on the beach are becoming higher and wilder, hurriedly stroking the sand in anticipation. The palms are swaying, the long strands of deep green foliage seem to dance on the increasing rush of the wind.

The seagulls have left the angry sky, taking shelter in nests unseen. The bats, usually moving in at dusk fall, are now squeaking, gathering in the mangroves, ready to wait the storm out.

All over the stretch of beach, in fact, the whole sea side town, small dark figures of people are moving. Packing up their belongings, baskets and blankets, and vacating to the car, or moving into the closest café, restaurant, pub, or hotel.

The beach side is now completely empty, free for the wild storm wind and waves to rage unhindered, and the storm swiftly moves in.

Free to gaze upon the downpour, safely tucked away in a warm enclosing blanket, bare toes just out of reach from the spattering raindrops that escaped the balcony's cover.

From the warmth of the beach hut you watch, the array of the rain shower, stretching out into the sea, the rushing wind singing it's own lonely little song.

The drops of rainwater caressed the earth, washing the dry earth from the streets, cooling the beach sand, dancing and returning back into the sea water. The water ran off everything, refreshing and cooling all, soaking back into the grateful earth.

The rain gathered in the palms, streaming down their long swaying leaves of deep green, over the bumpy light brown bark, sliding down the few exposed roots.

The rain splashed off the rocks, the roofs, and the stairway leading from the balcony, making the steps slippery.

But the hungry storm quickly sated it's self, and faded back into nothingness. Leaving the weak evening sunshine to peak through and evaporate the sad left over little puddles.

The storm has past.