SWEET TURBINE
I see you standing out to sea,
Arms held aloft to catch the breeze,
In sun and rain and freezing fog
You sail the far horizon.
Your sails no ship will speed away,
You stand rock-rooted, solid, sure,
In ebb and flow you hold your ground,
Unmoved by oceans' might.
The works of Man are mixed and many,
Their beauty in beholder's eye,
And you are beautiful to mine,
You are a work of love.
Honi soit qui mal y pense
Shame on your detractors.