Four summer suns, beside a placid bay,
I watched you slumber, fortress old and gray.
Your form, a mirage on the mirrored sea,
A timeless sentinel, serene and free.

The sky, a canvas painted crystal clear,
Each day a brushstroke, tranquil year by year.
Your image danced upon my inner eye,
A constant echo in the endless sky.

That calm, it whispered tales of endless peace,
No seasonal shift, no storm to bring release.
The mighty ocean, tamed, a gentle friend,
Its depths reflecting love that knew no end.

Oh, had I Rembrandt’s brush, or Blake’s wild hand,
To capture what I saw, in this still land.
A light beyond the sun, a dream’s embrace,
Your soul unveiled, a sacred, holy space.

I’d plant you on a canvas vast and bright,
Where skies wept rainbows, and stars danced in the night.
A world unlike this one, where shadows lie,
A haven sculpted in serenity’s high sky.

No longer would you stand in stoic might,
But hold a treasure trove of sunlit light.
A chronicle of joy, a whispered hymn,
Each ray a symphony, forever within.

A postcard from Elysium, serene and still,
No tides of toil, no storms to test your will.
Just gentle whispers on the windblown breeze,
And nature’s lullaby, a symphony of peace.

This vision, etched within my heart’s soft clay,
A picture painted in a simpler day.
I saw a truth in every crag and stone,
An everlasting peace, forever known.

But time, it marches on, a relentless tide,
My tranquil dream, by harsh reality, defied.
A power lost, a void that cannot mend,
Grief’s touch upon my soul, a journey without end.

Now, when I gaze upon the ocean’s wrath,
No calm reflection, only tempest’s path.
My heart, a mirror to the storm-tossed sea,
The memory of that peace, a fading memory.

Yet, Beaumont, friend, your brush has caught the core,
Not gentle waves, but waves forevermore.
This angry sea, this shore of dark despair,
A canvas painted with a truth to bear.

Passionate brushstrokes, wisdom in their strife,
The vessel battling, clinging to its life.
The mournful sky, a tapestry of fear,
A testament to what we hold most dear.

And this grand fortress, defiant and sublime,
I see the strength it wields, against the sands of time.
Clad in the armor of forgotten years,
It braves the lightning, wind, and ocean’s tears.

Farewell, the solace of a lonely dream,
Far from the world, where shadows dance and gleam.
Such bliss, unknown by those who truly feel,
Is blind to scars, and passions that reveal.

But welcome, friend, the strength that knows no pain,
The steady gaze that meets the coming rain.
For sights like these, and worse, may lie ahead,
But hope remains, a light within, unled.

We suffer, grieve, but rise with each new dawn,
For even in the storm, a brighter day is born.