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Thursday, 19 February 2015

Beneath The Clock

The loud swung pendulum
Observes your minutes
Your hours, your days
Your lifetimes of reading

Otherwise silence
Except for wind & wave
Rant and rave of sailors
And fishermen's memorabilia

Tales of extraordinary confidence
You are a believer, are you not
Alone here in this overdue place
Of historic grace and personal doom

Time then to take up the call to arms
In the farms for unusual naval ratings
We are waiting for you to enlist
In the whist drive reading room


Wednesday, 18 February 2015

Pier Head Blues

But this is more than any breeze
Gale force, or whatever they say
On the shipping forecast

Yet all the while
Sunshine bright enough
To blind the writer in reflection

You might call it wild
Myself 
I've called for a cappuccino

Which duly arrives
Resplendent on a silver tray
With jam and scones and cream


Tuesday, 17 February 2015

Foundations

Spirited waves
Fearful waves
Flashes of light
Storms on the horizon

All captured
In photographs
Purposeful strides
Sprays to gather meaning

Folded with a roar
Silenced by shutter
Wildness contained
In sepia tones of confusion

To move under
Under the U turn
Under the fallen crest
Under all that ever falls over


Monday, 16 February 2015

First Light

Quarter to seven
Unable to tell you
The colour of these socks
That almost match my shirt

Summer shades, ideal
For the seaside
Less so for the black
Horizon and brown waves

Ample space here
For a beach hut
To let, or hire
Or take freehold

Early morning greetings
I call them promenader's
Flaneur's, or wistful folk
Who whistle on the prom


Sunday, 15 February 2015

On Rising Early At Southwold

No gentle lap of wave
Not in this town
Of rebuilt choynes and
Early morning road-sweepers

Hard to pick out one crash
Amongst the relentless onslaught
A sea angered by the southerly winds
A noise as much as any other noise

Easier to dwell on the sunlight
Dancing upon the piers tall pillars
Easier, to think of you, asleep
As I crept out of the bedroom window