Bay Poem by nesersert nesersert

Wandering in the random address of memory.
A vision, waiting for creation,
pure contentment, wholeness, full.
Rich with embodiment, well being,
comes to mind.

Perched upon broken salted wood; a seagull.
White, grey tipped wings.
Carry her up, gently, gently,
then down again to her find.

Sand idles between my toes,
cold, hot caresses,
reminiscent of the sun.
The sea and clouds ease into each other
obscuring the horizon, discarding
thoughts for distant shores.

White spume crested waves,
ridden by sea horses of salt and spray
relentlessly rolling into a beautiful Kentish bay.

Cliffs; tall, ancient.
Standing here before any memory of man
Enclosing an island of security,
this small enclave in the world.

Seaweed is scattered at one end of my private cove;
prickled and sorted by feeding birds.
Above, the cliff face is pocked and marked by caves;
lightly highlighted by the westward sun.

Gulls call and click to one another;
some private language;
languishing themselves, caring for nothing
and no-one

This rectitude and contentment,
bourn of a tiny image;
a haven for my escape.

Yet, here, I recreate emotions,
and can only regain the faintest feeling,
not bearing nature justice:
these insufficient words.

8th August 1990 2200hrs. Canterbury