Fistral Surfers Poem by Fay Slimm

Grand champion hopes echo here each year
As, with summer heat, top class surfers meet
To crest the mighty waves. all leave the fear
Of giant rollers far behind, and sweeten
Judge's eye with feats of watery style,
All the while performing ballet- boarding
To the tune of crashing waves. Though beguiling
Like a drug, these surfing addicts afford
Respect at every turn, bow to mighty
Power of sea, yet rise again on next crest
Like Neptune's gods. At Fistral beach such heights
Are conquered only by the very best.
All mediocre wet - suits stay away
From water then, and watch the aces play.