Bristol Channel
Mist rolling in,
Seaweed slapping against rock.
The tide is ebbing away.
What care'th I ?
When nothing new I spy,
The tea I sip is warming.
No wind blowing,
The channel breathes a sigh.
Ripples on the millpond calm,
What move'th I ?
Listening to the idle chat,
A light your smile is warming.
No winter storm,
To freeze the patios over,
Where I sit, still looking out.
What say'th I ?
To the whispers on the ether,
Calling me to stay here warming.
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