Spring Tide at Ballycastle

Spring Tide at Ballycastle

Luring me away from my glowing turf

Raging sounds of wind and surf

On a wild, wet night the spring tide beckons

White horses rear up and then pound the shore

Spray and foam devour the sand

The furious battle plays out between sea and land

Teary eyes watch gulls winging past at pace

Needles of icy rain and salt sting my face

The reek of dulse on the air

Heaving boats ride the swell, straining at their chains

Monstrous waves erupt, greedily engulfing the pier

Daring me to stand too near

The churning mass boils with menace -black and deep

The Rue Point light eerily repeats its sweep

Searching for sailors’ souls to keep