February Storm at the Coast

Beside the rumbling shingle's edge,
Tumbled by sucking, white-capped waves,
Along the path of dainty shells:
The ocean's jewels, cowries, winkles,
Razors ribbed like angels' wings
Tossed as if by careless hands;

Beneath the darkened, windswept sky
Where seagulls, white against the gloom,
Fling up into tumultuous heavens,
Then down to ride the foaming crests,
And daring rays of sunlight die,
Extinguished by the swirling gloom;

Against the wild and singing wind-
Such strange, unearthly melodies-
Caught up between the numbing gusts
Where storm-blown raindrops sting like knives,
Powerless in Nature's loosened force,
Battered as a wave-borne stone,

I face the gale.