Sitting on my east deck in the drizzling rain,
listening over the dunes to the ocean roar.
Surf line running hard like a westbound train,
pounding its changing landscape for evermore.
Nearer to the railing drops bounce from my hand,
watching consistent sets gracefully peel into shape.
Rising up at a center to peak and crash to the land,
forming cylinders left and right to my visual gape.
Climbing to the rail, water disbursing at my feet
seeing a school of dolphins just inside the swell.
Racing swiftly parallel, in their emerald retreat
bounding and twisting they rip and shred so well.
Running over the dunes, surfboard under my arm,
dressed in black and blue neoprene I hasten to play.
Paddling out into the abyss, their smiles my charm
All worldly stress and worries simply wither away
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Brilliant poem this