As I follow the shoreline beside the sand dunes my ears are beaten by the winds roaring sound. I can imagine sailors being driven to madness as it’s power seems boundless. No doubt it’s roar is so deeply etched into their memory that they must suppress the urge to shout it down.
The Sunday Whirl 
My second effort this week is a poem.
A very nice collection of words, Brenda. I always enjoy your choice, but today they seem to speak to me especially powerfully.
As I follow the shoreline beside the sand dunes my ears are beaten by the winds roaring sound. I can imagine sailors being driven to madness as it’s power seems boundless. No doubt it’s roar is so deeply etched into their memory that they must suppress the urge to shout it down.