Missing Mousehole’s Christmas Lights…
Lanterns would wave crazily in a shoreline gale,
Like hands clasped in glee
By a chain of country dancers.
A church, its bulbs often missing,
Typically in need of restoration
Dominates the gleaming tiny quay
With its three lit ships and reindeer-prancers…
A cat, a mouse, a robin, a plum pudding and a cracker
Would sprinkle light in the nestling gloom,
As snatching surf scales harbour walls to distort
The haven, disrupt the display
Of stargazy pie, or spouting whale,
And lure unsuspecting boats to their doom,
To deny them the safety and shelter of port…
Pete Ray
Mousehole’s harbour lights, idle this this year…
A highlight of my year nullified by Covid-19…
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