Lamorna Girl…
The girl stands, incongruous,
On a small clapper bridge,
Across a rushing stream, scarring
Lamorna’s deep valley…
She poses, incongruous,
In her white Sunday dress,
Clutching a summer parasol,
Motionless, like a rich man’s folly…
A gruff cliff, monstrous,
Tumbles like a grim landslide
To a nestling harbour, warring
Lamorna’s harsh tides…
It looms, monstrous,
Sheer, unrelenting and dark
Near staid, sterile, staunch cottages,
Which hunch, huddle and stubbornly hide…
And idle boats upon a sea-wall lie
And lifting gear is silhouetted, angled high;
No car-park slopes gently to the squabbling sea,
No hewn stacks of blasted stone are there to see;
The girl stands, idyllic o’er the stream,
A pallid wraith in a Cornish dream…
Pete Ray
January 2017
Thoughts about an old image of Lamorna Cove, in which a young girl has surely been posed by the photographer…
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.