Two terraces.

 Two terraces and a kettle

The sea is heard above the silence

That has fallen on an evening land 

When sounds of man fall silent

And the ocean claims its hour. 

Now is the time when crickets fill

The dying hours with their strident calls

With sounds that promise summer heat

And lazy days beneath the sun. 

Houses flicker with warm lights

Before the western sky grows dark

All is well and all is calm

In this piece of Paradise. 

The night has taken over 

The ocean chorus sounds much clearer

As wounded Nature sounds defiant

And recalls the primeval order.