The tranquility that lay before me

was forbidding as the dark storm

clouds began to roll in, as-if on

the backs of horses, driven by

a tumultuous wind, galloping like

riders on the purple sage.

The storm and wind cared little

as they carved up the sand with

rapier like wit - they seemed to

laugh as the thunder roared -

both the sea and I digressed

from our original plans.

The sea's was to bring in high

tide, mine was to scurry away

but rather something kept me

focused - it was the memory of

my dad; served his country

faithfully in the second war.

I'll always remember what he

used to say, "The sea shall not

have them." You see, he served

in the RAF/Air Sea Rescue, and

he and his crew never lost one pilot

but twenty years ago I lost him.

So, whenever I can, I go down to the

sea, irregardless of ill-tempered winds

and somehow I feel my father's presence

for even though he's gone, he'll never

leave me, nor my family - his love for

all of us will always be never ending.

'2008' RLS