A World Away From The Storm Poem by Paul Reed

To be in this favourite place again
Where the light floods my eyes and mind
So that barren thoughts, no longer grey
Are whipped up with the cares of the world
Lifted high by the wind
And swirled up into the clouds and away;
Where the low sun picks up each blade of grass
And carves each one as a separate statue
Each ennobled and empowered;
The dancing crests on the waves
Sparkle and entice our hopes
And laugh at those that cowered;
Where we can run uninhibited, free
To bless the day this land was forged,
The day God's hand drew this sketch
Of a place away from woes,
Away from the world's blind corners
Which no price in gold could fetch;
And to think that this place is ours
Ours to hold in our tiny hands
To cradle us both safe and warm;
Our place, our freedom
The shelter from our troubles
A world away from the storm