Reeling into the wind, staggering along the beach
like ancient mariners tossed onto a distant shore,
our progress erratic as storm tossed debris.
As dark squalls spin across the horizon
heads withdraw, sheltering in gore-tex carapaces.
Eyes narrowed by reflected diamond light
salt stinging tears funnell down furrowed cheeks.
Cries of wonder are carried beyond the wind,
Lions on the beach!
Maroon manes tangled on the sand,
great tawny heads glistening in the sun,
these fallen giants will roar no more.
Humbled by fallen colossi,
captivated on sand encrusted knees,
the insistent tide breaks our revery.
Waves lapping salt rimed boots,
chilled by a cruel sea, lamenting
we turn homewards
weaving through ribbons of amber kelp.
National Poetry Day, Tuesday 30 September
Beautiful words Christine!
Thank you
Your muse has done your proud, Christine – some thought provoking imagery there, and I could almost feel I was walking along the beach with you. Despite my good intentions last year I did not remember it was National Poetry Day but I have now written it on the calendar for NEXT year – my poetic inspiration has been greatly lacking recently so it would have been a good incentive!
After a lazy summer the muse needed to sharpen her metaphorical pencil. Poems always have a difficult gestation, this one struggled but refused to keep quiet.
We’re expecting a big storm tomorrow, so you can join me for the beach walk on Friday if you’re free.