Add to ORKGFoam falls from flashing rocks, swelling back to piles of sea-green water washing wildly in upon the...
I now, in last reflection, scuff the stone And pause in vesper quiet above the sand, For soon I set ...
Having glazed the sand and driftwood, The water slips away and breezes whisper To the foam on langui...
Dry winds beat around his head, No salt tang here. Hot earth pours out It\u27s fertile fragrance. Ro...
Dirty thick wind Howling, sniffing and hissing Bruising trees and houses, Brawling with itself In it...
If I could but record the Mystification of the Wind Mingled with the promptings of The disturbed hea...
Back from the shore a certain place lies rustling quietly, Alive in the night, While the waters of t...
On his sand-heap in the desert The bearded hermit sat, When suddenly a foreign wind raged down upon ...
The dry day dies as many have before, In the steel-gray death of a bloodless sun; Mortician night sh...
Upon the turning, tern-shouldered shore Huddled, crackling, driftwood-dying Spoutfires, tiny spots o...
I love you as an angry torrent raging Onward in its frantic headlong flight Toward endless seas. I l...
To feel the ocean, you have to get your feet wet. To feel the sand, you have to take your shoes off....
the earth bearing scars of careless surgery lies naked in the wind bleeding leaves which spurt from ...
THE North Sea was a massive inferno of cold, black, raging torrents. Earlier a venomous German torpe...
Like snow that heat can not melt, bleached white coral tortures our tired eyes..
Foam falls from flashing rocks, swelling back to piles of sea-green water washing wildly in upon the...
I now, in last reflection, scuff the stone And pause in vesper quiet above the sand, For soon I set ...
Having glazed the sand and driftwood, The water slips away and breezes whisper To the foam on langui...
Dry winds beat around his head, No salt tang here. Hot earth pours out It\u27s fertile fragrance. Ro...
Dirty thick wind Howling, sniffing and hissing Bruising trees and houses, Brawling with itself In it...
If I could but record the Mystification of the Wind Mingled with the promptings of The disturbed hea...
Back from the shore a certain place lies rustling quietly, Alive in the night, While the waters of t...
On his sand-heap in the desert The bearded hermit sat, When suddenly a foreign wind raged down upon ...
The dry day dies as many have before, In the steel-gray death of a bloodless sun; Mortician night sh...
Upon the turning, tern-shouldered shore Huddled, crackling, driftwood-dying Spoutfires, tiny spots o...
I love you as an angry torrent raging Onward in its frantic headlong flight Toward endless seas. I l...
To feel the ocean, you have to get your feet wet. To feel the sand, you have to take your shoes off....
the earth bearing scars of careless surgery lies naked in the wind bleeding leaves which spurt from ...
THE North Sea was a massive inferno of cold, black, raging torrents. Earlier a venomous German torpe...
Like snow that heat can not melt, bleached white coral tortures our tired eyes..
Foam falls from flashing rocks, swelling back to piles of sea-green water washing wildly in upon the...
I now, in last reflection, scuff the stone And pause in vesper quiet above the sand, For soon I set ...
Having glazed the sand and driftwood, The water slips away and breezes whisper To the foam on langui...