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The Windy Sea outside my window
Outside my window free and wild,
I heard the sea surge and billow, not mild.
Through the masts of the lone Acacia tree land side,
A sea of wind hissing like foam, the surface surf its ride
Breaking over the golden dry pods, rising and falling with the tide.
Just outside my window, near beyond the north wall
Through the steep rising valley halls,
The Acacia sailed strong in the surging blow,
Its topmost boughs in the rolling swells, high and low, and high and low.
Just outside my window, near beyond the north wall,
I saw in the sea of windy wind, the windy blowing sea,
The Acacia’s prow leaning to the lee,
Singing through the wild surf free.
The earth its hull, no gulls to mull.