Pacific storms of our winters will see,
From Tofino we travelled,
Those are the familiar roads that we know,
Hold onto that sanctuary at Grice Bay,
Of another small wet painting in oil of that very day,
Now, especially is this oil of the Pacific,
An ocean with its waters grayish-green,
And with such fairer days seen,
It is the skies which would not hold still,
Yet clouds shift-changing high-up in that vague blue serene,
All the children once so young but grown,
As this land's alive and all about much known,
But it's the memories of our winters seas we own.
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