Poetry Blogs (fishermen)
O' if you could see the Devil's grin, would you trespass on his mortal sea?
Thy is no sanctuary to those perils, bound phlegmatic men;
whose hands labour in enemy boundaries.
O' trawler men, who art thou unite in brethren, fight incoming battles; torrential weather.
Many address the danger, huddled together; trying to keep warm
but we know death is no friend and is always hungry for more.
Friday 10th July 2020 7:09 pm
And then the sand flowed like the tide
Shifting the land at the wave edge of the sea
A vast striated plane of drifting whirling grains:
Aged dunes lost to the wail will of the wind.
As we walked close by the sea suck and ripple
The bound beach rose and swallowed our grounded feet
We seemed to be free floating sand cloud high
In the sandsmoke drifts rushing to their...
Tuesday 12th December 2017 3:17 pm