The Breeze

(First draft…)

Cycling along oak tree-lined ways
I lift my face to the breeze
and listen to the song the wind sings
as it brushes through the trees.

Rustling through branches, it sings
of it's journey across the seas 
to reach so far inland, tells tales 
of how it plays with the ocean waves
far away on foreign seas.

I turn my back and the breeze 
plucks my clothes, eagerly pushing past 
on its journey to the next grove of trees 
to sing again its songs for them
of the tales that it weaves.
Advertisement

Springtide

The tide of Spring
arrives like waves
climbing up the beach;
advance, retreat,
advance, retreat…
advance…

Company

Galloping
white horses
riding the waves,
keeping our little yacht
company.

Spray

Strong winds blow against
strong tide, pushing up large waves.
We plough through the spray.

Sea Sprites

Sea sprites chuckle and play
in the foamy bow-wave spray
pushed aside by our boat
as she steadily ploughs her way
through the waves.

Waves

Eyes looking right, left,
all round, playful waves jostle,
my little boat bobs.

Clouds Roll

Waves of dark clouds roll
over from the west; cannot
swamp the morning sun.

Gentle Waves

Sailing in Spain

Sunshine.
Gentle waves
lap the shore.
Breeze fills sails, boat
flies.

Sunshine.
Gentle waves
lap the shore.
Dog swims to fetch
sticks.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

While in Spain we visited Cambrils where our dauaghter and her partner keep their Hobbycat. We spent the day playing with the boat and thowing sticks for the dog. It was too cold to swim!

These Elfje also appear today on Simply Elfje. You can read them here.

Porpoise

Cutting through the waves
in graceful arcs,
a porpoise glides beside the boat.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Now back in our home port and once more able to get online. The sun is still shining and we have had a few wonderful days spent sailing in balmy conditions, what a contrast to the previous week!

Rocking Horse

Around the Bench Head buoy conflicting currents
swirl with the turning tide.
Under the morose grey clouds the wind
adds to the confusion, whipping up the waves
that cause our boat to plunge and toss
like an over enthusiastic rocking horse.

Site content copyright of Elizabeth Leaper (Libby).

Supporting the Printed Word

Read the Printed Word!