Sea ice

No wind
No clouds
The stars twinkle down
The scene is set

The chill wafts down
to its lowest point
and frost forms
even on the sea

A paper thin layer
of gossamer white
stills the ever moving
water of the sea

As the tide falls
The lace drapes
over rocks
hung over ropes

Caught the buoys
in a tender embrace
A fond farewell
From winter's grip

The Atlantic is clearing its throat
The south winds are blowing
an overture towards
the Hebrides

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