ROPES IN PADSTOW MUD...

 Ropes In Padstow Mud…

Once ropes like those held luggers fast,

Or barques, laden with Canadian timber,

 Or drifters, returned with herring caught;

But now such ropes lie in glistening mud, cast

Into the undulating slime of time’s slumber:

Some hung with green weed, oddly distraught…

And Padstow’s slick low-tide rivulets stream

Through thick, mired gullies which lure and gleam…

Pete Ray

Padstow.

Ropes in mud.

Later submerged in high-tide sea…