Beachcombing

Where a solitary seagull flew,
hopeful of an unexpected catch,
an old man moved along
the deserted seashore,
glancing skywards,
as if to ward off new invaders.

He kept his gaze low,
pausing then pouncing,
hands sifting piles of slippery pebbles,
“Makes a good walk” he called,
digging to retrieve his bounty –
two battered 20p coins.

“Like poetry?”
he called, I nodded,
so with one hand cupped
to the side of his mouth,
warding off competition
from the roar of the wind
on the incoming tide,
he launched into a sonnet.

His words swooped, soared,
glided past present reality
and far out to sea,
I clapped respectfully
as he continued to work the beach
as a showman might,
reaping his due rewards for such
a powerful performance.

Advertisements

The Salt Sea Winds

Where salt sea winds make their eerie sounds
and grey-green waves come crashing to the shore
and water washed pebbles tumble from obscurity
into an ever changing collage of muted colour

High on the shore, a beached starfish lies rigid in the sun,
greedy seagulls pick over empty oyster shells
Bobbly brown seaweed mingles with ribbons of green.
Chalky cuttlefish lie beside a shiny skate egg husk

One pebble, grey and white – with a gleam of light
shining through its centre, a shape, strangely soothing.

Rolled over in the palm of my hand its hard cold surface
seems like a symbol of something mystic, other worldly.

Day Trippers

Here they come streaming out of the station
and down to the sea
where squawky seagulls herald their arrival.

Ignoring stripy deckchairs at wind breaks
they settle for their beach mats and
home-grown towels.

Barefoot children brave the pebbles
to meet the chill of the sea,
throw stones to skim the waves.

Kites flutter with over optimistic gaze
ice creams melt,
tea in paper cups turns cold

Too soon the fun comes to an end
and nervous crabs in buckets
await their fate.

But all is well,
everything is packed
children sent to discharge their captives.

Smiley House

I have had a beach hut for over thirty years, my partner bought it when he lived down here thirty years ago in the 80s.  He had to move back to London for several years but westill came down with my mother, sons and later daughter – in – laws and grandchildren.  I often came down with Joshua then eldest grandchild on the train.
1-DSCF0415-001

Smiley House

(for Joshua 15 years ago)

 We are off to Granny’s beach hut

so we are waiting for the train,

with buckets, balls and sandwiches,

umbrellas for the rain.

Gran says we’ll walk for ages,

so the buggy’s just in case.

My legs are not quite long enough

to walk at Granny’s pace.

Gran talks and talks to all her friends,

so I wait patiently,

But now we empty everything

because she’s lost the key.

At last we open Smiley House,

The name is on the door,

It’s full of lovely things

and I’ve been here before.

There are nets to do the fishing,

a kettle for Gran’s tea,

a chair for her to take a rest while I

throw pebbles in the sea.

If I want a paddle

I have to tell my Gran,

I’m not allowed to go alone,

She has to hold my hand.

We eat up all the sandwiches,

At four we catch the train,

We’ve had a really lovely time

and now here comes the rain!

———-