Seaweed Dressed as salad.

If the constrains of the tempests chains 

strewn and stricken along golden shore’s

Granting freedom of shallows 

to those of the broken sails

kites that fight to readdress the keel.

Whilst trying to catch the beacon casting sparks 

On a green gauged knotted line 

dragged along up and beyond tidal sands

Unpicking sewn lines to high marked land.