Palm tree breeze

I do not desire to admit this is it

I look beyond, always out to sea.

These pavements we walk and these things we talk,

For I see more in this palm tree breeze.

The wind across my face,

The salt crisping my skin,

The rain trickling on in.

So I will keep running,

Far far away,

To a land in which these shells remain.

To a place we root in gods intended way,

The place in which the palm trees sway.