Napowrimo 5th April 2022
Imagination flows like an ebbing tide,
When on Devon surfboards unicorns ride.
See the graceful stand and the regal air,
That demands those near stop, stand, and stare.
On frothing white horses, horned equines sail,
With spray in their nostrils, and wind in their tails.
Wild are these beasts, with salt in their manes,
The Atlantic’s roar under their limbs is tamed.
Parting the waves with spirals upright,
They twist and turn before rolling the pipe.
Amongst the Orca, Dolphins and Porpoise,
They have no rhyme, no reason or purpose.
There is no feeling to be found on this earth,
As the joy of letting Devon unicorns surf.