Wind horses

Swiftly speeds the whitened foam churned spray
Before the storm, spume races bright o’r leaden sea
Casts kitewakes back, wheel sharply from mounting swell
Song old as time, rings sweet to far horizon’s sweep
Towered clouds, lour grey by spattered rain drops
Dances the wind down, eons passed in storm day welcome
With joy the sea harvest, sweet caress the live long day
Rejoices in exhuberance bright,
Remonstates with the churning sand of time