'OCTOBER SURF': NEW POEM ABOUT MAWGAN PORTH LAST WEEKEND...

October Surf

Didn’t look promising

From my view on the dry, soft sand

A couple of hundred metres away,

Admittedly,

But I strode on, hoping,

Across the hard, damp, undulating sand,

My board ‘neath my arm, tucked away…

It looked more hopeful

From my view in the thrashing shallows

Around maybe twenty-five metres on,

Critically,

And I waded forth, vengeful,

Through the drag where balance wallows,

My board ‘neath my body, keen to sprawl on… 

Then a wave slashed,

Untainted white

And hauled and lashed

My board, held tight;

Then I was propelled

Almost to shore:

I clung on, I held

And I wanted more…

It was clearly acceptable,

From this first ride

Of thirty rushing metres, or more,

Thrillingly,

That certainly this would be desirable

From a questionable tide:

Such power simmering in a mighty roar…

Pete Ray

November 2016

Didn’t think the rides would be any good at Mawgan Porth on 27th October. 

They would prove to be exhilarating. 

There was nobody else in the sea for quite a while and so that surf felt like mine.

Fine feeling…