Just answer

a poem by Chloe Margaret Taylor, UK

Where the coast curves, to the bay in the lee,
oh, the gentle wind; oh, the wistful sea.

When the beach is bright, and the waves dive free,
Sing out
oh, the running wind; oh, the dancing sea.

When white tears the cliff, foam-manes all you see,
Then cry
oh, the wild, trapped wind; oh, the mad topped sea.

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