Eve Of My Birthday Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

On the eve of my birthday I feel serene
Though I expect future storms
And seas of fuming green and white-surfed waves
I have been sirs at the helm
For dozens of years have felt almost each day
The hard drops the white spume and
The smell of salt from angered seas
Howls of raging gales and drenched rocks
Spume back in vomit and raged tongues
Of the angered heavens that would blanche
Even the sternest faces and courageous eyes.