Post Storm

On an eerie coast to the east
there is a figure that watches the night,
eyes luminous over the beast,
the sea, that devours rock and light.

Ghostly in appearance,
the manor lies just a stretch away.
A silent green-eyed infant is planted
within a crib of warm earth.

She awaits the spring of the new year
when the people return home.
The war rests far instead of near,
although the child now sleeps alone.

Thin white bedsheets blow in the torrent
of fiesty winds and waters.
Yet the tower will be forever spent
watching over the island daughter.