Impending Storm…
( My poem inspired by Sue Nichol’s new painting of Sandsend, North Yorkshire…)
Whitby huddles and its Abbey cowers grey as fiction, dark as hate,
For a squall looks to be bustling in, lustfully.
The beach recoils, crawling beneath the tide’s hurrying rate
And gnarled groynes stand raw and weathered, and grieve ruefully…
Whitby’s community lies distanced, insignificant, temporary and exposed,
In contrast to the eroding shoreline’s apparent permanence.
The eddying pools and adjoining streams seem restless, indisposed
And swirl round the distorted groynes, riddled with persistence…
Whitby stares down at Sandsend’s seashore, wary of the sea’s lurching
Waves, wild and sullen, thrashing and loud.
And tetchy gulls forage, frolic and scream in their searching,
Near the arthritic groynes, which shiver within the ocean’s shroud…
Pete Ray…
27th November 2025…
ABOVE & BELOW: TWO OF MY PICS OF THE SCENE...
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