A gentle breeze rolls through my black hair as an albatross sings in my head.

The bluffs of the petite bay hold back the autumn within its beached grasp

As the holy hidden wonders are heard in their repeating echo

And they remind me of their regal, inner beauty with rumours and a gasp.

I have laid there on the timid beach, a book, music in my ears holding back time,

And many a woman I wooed within my head as I listened to waves

That crashed into sand, swallowing grains whole silently in mime