Standing on the white sand,
Galloping horses race to where I stand.
Fight—fight that they don't take me under the blue-grey hooves,
Gentle first, then fierce war-horses in drones.
Finally drenched, home I walk,
As back to sea they stalk.

—•–

A/N : the foam on the waves of the sea are so pretty, and really do remind me of horses. I'm pretty sure that's a popular opinion, though.