Storm sculptured,
in eternal argument
with the sea
withered giants, fortified with iron fences
In the evening drizzle
amongst a lump of shivering bodies
breathless climb to the ancient arch
where the wind was gathering strength
for his final attack
Lonely, empty, majestic
remnant of a past
slowly slipping into oblivion
“a cool background for our holiday pic”.
But, be still and listen to the wind
he has stories of the lonely prince,
betrayed by his friends –
who wanted to save his land
from famine and war –
find his love and live forever more –
Thus shouts the storm,
so gushes the rain
while the sea claws up on her crumbling claim

Sybille(Sydney)Krivenko 2007