Turning the Lights On: A Meeting of Tides...
The stroll of retracing my steps
Never seemed the same
Through winter’s sturdy, greyscale streets,
Hiding from my seeking game.
And the wind harangued
And an impatient swell
Beat the baulks icy cold,
As Mousehole waited, stilled and chilled,
Until a simple switch dashed black and grey
Into Christmas images bright and gay...
And the ocean’s tidal bellow and battering furore
Was obliterated by the joy of Yule-tide’s deafening roar…
Pete Ray
17th December 2024…
The quiet, grey streets of Mousehole always fascinate me, despite having retraced my steps many times.
The sea’s tide rattled against the harbour entrance baulks, yet as soon as the Christmas lights were switched on, the village blazed and the massing
visitors roared Yuletide to the fore...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.