Tuesday 11 September 2012

The Blood Red Turning Of The Tide

The drooping sun salutes its prey
And casts its scarlet lines.
The lapping ocean shivers in red,
Our beach below has sunk once more,
We sit and watch the light grow dim
Upon Tregardock cliff.

A trickle flows from mossy sod
And wanders ever down.
It falls, it patters on the rocks
The limpet, lichen, liminal rocks
And we sit and watch the light grow dim
Upon Tregardock cliff.

A memory fresh, the brazen day,
With heated sand and mocking gulls
And smoking, greasy, cooking food
And beach games played and friendships forged.
We sit, we watch, the light grows dim
Upon Tregardock cliff.

The sparkling nectar, born from grape
Passed from hand to hand.
We share, we feel, we watch that sun,
We smile, we laugh, we live as one
We sit, and watch the nearing dark
Upon Tregardock cliff.

Now stand, salute the stricken day!
Step slow, upon the meadows green.
A haven waits, a cottage bleak,
A morning new, a waking dream,
We stroll, behind the blackness comes
Upon Tregardock cliff.

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