Stormy Seas

The sea churns 
With spun sugar-whipped foaming energy 
Fixing salt spray on the lips;
The gull on the fingers of the wind
Is held in suspension
As the waves roll and retreat
Like the Tuppenny slot machine of the arcade,
Relentlessly mechanical in motion: in and out
Drawing the sand from the bed of the sea 
In a serge of reddish soup 
Hewn from  Jurassic cliffs:
Remorseless the anger is  until
The lion lies down with the lamb.