A storm is coming 
and I can't sleep. 
I can feel the deep 
lapping at my feet. 
Tides tease 
waves black and violent 
breathe, plead
come inside take a peek. 
I think I retreat 
go back 
hide in the trees 
where the owl 
steals my dreams 
and the grass 
colours everything green.
Not all is 
always as it seems 
in between lies 
the true heart of things.

©JM.Cole