Ernest Said:

Can one of you fine poets in here write a poem based on this painting?

We Answered:

Whipped waves crash down along the beach,
a roar like thunder in disguise.
And those who wait for it to calm
are stung by venom in their eyes.

The tide today is full of hate
encouraged by a squally blow,
as wispy clouds speed swiftly by
they laugh on all the fun below.

A frenzied strike on all who think
they are the rulers of the deep,
from one who's taken many lives
at other times can rock to sleep.

The fishermen can't launch their boat.
How small they are against the sea.
Quite powerless to make a move
on one hell bent on anarchy.

The men who fish must bide their time
until the raging waters rest
and they are free to cast their nets
till nature's way is sent to test