Southend Pier, the estuary
the sky a speckled grey
reflected on the water
at the end of a long day
The fairground quiet and empty
the evening lights aglow
It’s peaceful here in winter
as the tidal waters flow



Meantime here’s some cyclamen…

I’m afraid I’ll not be posting
for five days from the morrow
No poetry from Jemverse
which I know will bring some sorrow

But although I’m incognito
I’ll be writing every day
More poems for my repertoire
Three cheers! Hip, Hip, Hooray!

I’ll not be going very far
but will be out of Wi-Fi range
A week’s intensive training
(In case you think that’s strange)

So meantime here’s some cyclamen
to look at for a while
as Jemverse will be back quite soon
to bring another smile


Sun kissed

With a cold foot forward, dressed up warm
against the chilly air
The grin upon my face resigned
and not for pleasure there
And yet the crystal air affords
despite the iron chill
A sun-kissed panorama that
is sure to cure all ill


Wintertime tangents

Off at a tangent
at this time of year
When it’s still wintertime
but the spring is quite near
It’s getting lighter each day
and at evening time too
And though trees are still bare
there are signs of the new

We have cyclamen growing
in the tub just outside
And the forsythia buds
are forming with pride
But it’s January still
so more chill we will know
as the forecast I’m told
is for dustings of snow

So for now I’m resigned
to more of this chill
Albeit with the promise
that the waiting until
the warm days of spring
get nearer each day
when the green with replace
the wintertime grey



To keep and hold

There is never a time
when a visit is not
unrewarding for me
whether chilly or hot
It is always refreshing
a pleasure and more
For there are always the
treasures along the seashore
Precious stones for the finding
to keep and to hold
The richness of beauty
far better than gold
And I have many of these
found there over time
Each one given home
as they became mine
Stones with a hole
through which I can see
Each wonderful finds
I trust you’ll agree


Waters Edge

The lapping sea
The water cold
The breakwater
The very old
The ocean song
The greying sky
The water sound
The seagull cry
The sand beneath
The seaweed there
The coming tide
The pensive stare
The beach which is
The everything
The Waters edge
The eyes that sing


Contented treads…

Walking slowly on the shingle
the crunching ‘neath my feet
as pebbles slip and slide
and tideline flotsam
with my roving eyeline meet

Crossing sea-sculpted grounds
the distant shoreline fades
as tide comes in
and lapping waves
with salted sand-scape trades

This is my beach, my haven
my extra-special place
as contented treads
and all will know
with smiles on my face


Passing pleasantries

I overheard a conversation
above me in the sky
as two seagulls passed up in the blue
casually flying by
But as I am not fluent
in ‘Gull’ I’m sad to say
that I have no idea
of what was said there yesterday

But judging by their faces
I am pretty certain that
a pleasantry was there exchanged
during their short chat
“Hello Steve, a lovely day”
“Yes John, I quite agree”
“Are you going fishing later?”
“Great, I’ll see you out at sea”

I’d like to think that’s what was said
above as down below
Exchanging words of greeting
with others that we know
A passing word, a little smile
goes a long, long way
and can make quite the difference
to the pleasure of a day



Sunday afternoons…

Sunday afternoons
A walk, a rest, a cup of tea
This insouciance



A glimpse of yellow

I caught a glimpse of yellow
in a hedgerow yesterday
It was quite unexpected
but it made me think “Hooray!”

For though it’s still the winter
the Spring will not be long
And glimpses of that colour
fill my heart and mind with song

For yellow is ubiquitous
with summer to my mind
And as I live for warmer days
the two are quite entwined



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