The Wall, Newlyn
Curved
Like a giant magnet
It lay: a permanence,
As vessels it attracted,
And became attached
Like iron filings
To a lure irresistible,
A pull invisible,
Just as a serpent might lurk
For prey distracted,
Which became attacked,
Unnerved…
I peered down from the street
Some years ago
At the curved arm,
Barely nursing a vessel or two
But it was the grassy covering
Which offered its charm:
Tempted, encouraged and cajoled me, hovering
With much ado…
And I knew,
My foolish whim unwavering,
That one day the magnet of that wall
And my curiosity,
The twain, would surely meet…
Pete Ray
October 2016
The old harbour wall at Newlyn.
The old image shows barely any craft in the background, unlike today’s marina.
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