Salty

Salty whispers curl with tide‑kissed air,
A briny breath upon the harbour’s sigh.
Sea‑kissed shells and weather‑worn sails flare,
Each grain a memory of ocean’s shy.

From clifftop grass to fish‑market stalls,
The tang of Neptune’s kiss clings to the skin,
It flavours tea, it seasons humble calls,
And leaves a trace of distant waves within.

So raise a cup, let salty thoughts take flight—
A savoury solace in the British night.