Winter Beach

I strolled to the beach.
The January sun
Fiery low in the sky
Bullied me.
A double glazed
Mid-summer day.
There are no larks
No swaying daffodils
Or gentle lapping breeze
Caressing the ditches;
Kissing the earth;
Like a lovers whisper,
A teasing touch;
But a rapists’ breath;
Course and cold.
Bereft of tenderness;
Tearing, stripping.
Perverted chameleon.
Bitter, disguised
Repulsive, False
Hateful Usurper