Salal bush wind clipp'd and bent
By the western wind is rent
Into bonsai gardens of the rain and storm.
Sparkling silver sea and mist
Has constant, held and kissed
This wild topiary landscape's sculpted form.

0r maybe

On a windswept grassy knoll
Above the ceaseless breakers roll
Where wind crook'd pine is stooped
By timeless sea,
Lies a cold, flat granite stone
Forgotten and alone
And carved words cut to the bone:
"Lost at sea".