Isle And Wall And Baulks
An irritable sea toiled in Mount’s Bay,
Blundering into St Clement’s Isle,
Spilling over its outcrop rocks like a frothy beer
And it hissed and hushed,
The roosting gulls to irk and rile...
The wicked tide railed in Mount’s Bay,
Battering into the steep harbour wall,
Towering above its granite stones like a curtain sheer
And it hissed and shushed,
Its rain-soaked onlookers all in thrall...
The outrageous ocean broiled in Mount’s Bay,
Bludgeoning into the wooden baulks laid,
Spurting through the narrow slits like a human fear
And as it hissed and rushed,
The blocks clashed a thumping artillery tirade...
Pete Ray
December 2018
Nasty weather at Mousehole, December 2018…
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