From here you can see the slow, measured tumble of the waves br Rise, swell, surge toward the pebbles of the beach. br Born of the ebbing, flowing, restless sea, br Nurtured by the tireless winds, br Offspring of the wild Atlantic, br Destined to play here on this distant shore. br Why does the sea draw me back to this place? br What makes me sit here among the dunes, to watch and watch br Compelled, hypnotised by the rhythm of the waves? br Bottle-green glass valley, deep and slow, br Stare into the deep and wonder br What mystery is there. br What life and death lie hidden br What tears and laughter and joy and sorrow… br Ah, such a tale the sea would tell if we would only listen, br Such a tale – if we could only hear. br See now how the flood rises br Wind-driven white br Climbs the steep slope br Driven ever upward in its urge br To leave behind the valley of the shadow br Rides the watery wall, reaches toward the light br Until, fast-flying, it reaches out and dips and curls and tumbles br Scatters its rich-jewelled crown upon the waiting shore br Shouts and laughs and plays among the pebbles! br See how it sparkles in the sun. br As it runs back through the stones br Listen as it calls to the shore br A last farewell. br Returns br To the wild Atlantic swell. br br And I shall return again and again br To sit and wonder at the tumbling, beguiling sea.