The Bluff

The Bluff stands tall ;
Rising like an ancient warrior
From fertile coastal plains.
Proud and sturdy
Against the tumultuous sea.

The stoic Bluff;
Bearer of unrelenting lashings
And vicious attacks
From angry waters churning below
Striking hard against unyielding granite footings.

The south wind thrusts
Its merciless breath
Tousling squat grasses
And wild geraniums
That tremble with the scraping gale.

Summit yearnings
Require fortitude
But jubilation awaits the brave
And unsurpassed seascapes
transfix initially reluctant ramblers.

Encounter Bay curves gently, east
A sandy beach hugs the coastline,
Like lemon frosting on a delectable cake;
The white teeth of broken waves
bite hungrily into the shoreline.

With disciplined eyes
One can trace the edge of the world
Until far-flung sea mists
Blur the horizon
Blending land, sea and sky, into one.

There is nothing south of The Bluff
But a million miles of sea
and eventually ice.
The Bluff is enduring.
The Bluff stands tall.

© Strauss
14th April 2007