The trees sway in the wind like waves upon the ocean.
The gale comes roaring through them like the tide.
Wild white horses out to sea, in rapid motion
Scud wind-surfers dancing shoreward as they ride.
The yachts are turning homeward from the treacherous, heaving bar. The birds have sought a haven from the dark, impending storm. The black on the horizon, and the flashes from afar,
And the thunder in the distance, and the fresh, damp air all warn That it’s time that I sought shelter from the lightning and the rain. Boats are struggling homeward with all their might and main. The first drops fall and splatter over land and over sea.