Poem for Monday

Let me know what you think of this poem:

At Sea

The sky is beautiful and blue, yet clear
and bright. The sun will rise and make it shine
in the East then everywhere. The clouds are white
and fluffy, but asleep and dreaming rain.

The wind is silent, but is feeling sharp
with anticipation of brewing grief.
The seagulls talk among themselves and play
a game with water bathing fishes’ scales.

Sometimes a seagull catches one or two,
while it is diving in the blue and green
abyssal sea. The seagulls hear it first;
the birth of storm approaching near and far.

They fly away to find a safe and large
vicinity to shelter all of them.
The sun escapes behind the clouds to keep
away and dry. The sky no longer bright

and clear; it grows obscure and strange. The sea
meanders back and forth, then jostling fierce.
The air discerns disdain around the sea
and sky. The sea arises from ground and roars;

the sky unravels lightning rapidly
and thunders. Battling as fast as light,
they go away and sleep until they meet
again for battle. Brightness comes and shines

The seagulls come again at sea to play;
the sky returns to normal like before.
At sea the weather strikes whenever sky
and sea encounters peace, delight, and rage.