It was a verge, an edge of the surf;
A song that fell from the turbine's
Screaming neck
It was a verse that refused to sit still.
The sea slapped the keel and she moaned
A dirge, a bikini sun smiling knowingly;
Oiled limbs dancing with salt and chilled wine.
The turbine twisted in a twirl,
Whipped her nose to the shore
The lights at the shore winked at the girls;
They screamed with the wheel
As she made a turn and faced the moon.
The turbine s stretched itself feet,
Brought out a pipe and a book
And the boat opened the sea to her bed
And the girls dove into her chill
And wandered among her sweet stink
For a while, the world was a mountain
And the sky was a sea with a round white ship.
I can't verse this in French.
#freewrite