Beach
Poems
Alone At Last
Alone at last, quiet, still
thoughts zigzagging
like children’s kites
snaking in the wind.
Above me a seagull flies
drifting, twisting, turning.
Does he have a destination?
Beach Haiku
ghostly moon hovers
over Spurn lighthouse as
gulls watch from the shore
soothing sounds bring joy
lapping waves make music to
nourish the soul
a dog races past
gulls lining the water's edge
take flight one by one
spring tide rushes in
washing over our bare feet
shells dance in its wake
river sucked away
by a hidden magnet leaves
patterns in the sand
beached yachts lean seaward
waiting for the tide to come
and free their spirits
Beach Haiku
ghostly moon hovers
over Spurn lighthouse as
gulls watch from the shore
soothing sounds bring joy
lapping waves make music to
nourish the soul
a dog races past
gulls lining the water's edge
take flight one by one
spring tide rushes in
washing over our bare feet
shells dance in its wake
river sucked away
by a hidden magnet leaves
patterns in the sand
beached yachts lean seaward
waiting for the tide to come
and free their spirits
On
Seeing the Sculpture Seahorse by Darren Yeadon*
An
eye, without moving,
watches
my approach.
I
am drawn in
and
feel the need to touch.
I
don’t know if it is allowed.
Veins
marble the ivory
like
contours on a map.
I
trace them with my finger.
A
ripple lingers on my spine.
This
exquisite creature plays me
like
a musical instrument,
whispers
of warm ocean currents,
coral
fronds and sea grass
flailing
in slow motion
under
a yellow moon.
Yet
this armour-plated body
is
cold. Cold and smooth.
Cold
and smooth.
*This
amazing piece of art is 1.5m high and sculpted from Carrara marble.
