Haven

In the quiet hush of dusk, a harbour sighs,
Where gulls retreat and tides lay down their weary prize.
A cottage, low and stone‑clad, sits upon the sand,
Its windows warm with amber light, a steady, welcoming hand.

Here the world’s loud clamour softens to a murmur,
Waves whisper lullabies that soothe the restless hummer.
Salt‑kissed breezes carry scents of thyme and sea‑weed green,
And in this sheltered nook, troubled hearts find calm serene.

No fortress built of steel, no wall of iron stark,
Just earth and water weaving peace within the dark.
A haven—not a place to hide, but where the soul can breathe,
Where storms may rage beyond, yet peace will never seethe.

So let the wanderer rest his boots upon this shore,
Knowing that within these arms, he’ll wander nevermore.