Poetry Blogs (2015, sea)

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Skipness Painting


stormy weather,

the paint is splattered

in raindrops.




Sun making me giddy

under a hot sky,

with subtle clouds and

a delicate palette of blues,

a sense of vastness overwhelms me.

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Porto Colom Beach

Candy striped umbrellas

jostle for space on the beach

amongst spread-eagled limbs.

Oiled and golden brown they bake in the sun.

Lily white legs stand,

hot sand trickling between their toes.

Stout tummies lead the way

into cool lapping water,

wading, slow, heavy with

sagging, ponderous thighs.

Children lunge bravely into the deep

and bob to the surface,

grinning ...

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Majorcaseasunsun bathing

The Bass (96)

Lagoon and aqua English blue.

Midget white horses roll with silver eyes.

Their hooves curling forward then crash,

as the surf storms in yards behind.


Tremors invade the sandbanks and gullies,

as the slack creeps in before.

This is the world of the sea perch.

The bass. Striking hard and hitting fast.


Armoured in silver and streaking shine,

as he terrorises the r...

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entry picture

The child in his arms, such a precious gift,

her sweet little smile would make his heart lift.

Born into a love that none could compare,

baby blue eyes framed with curly blonde hair.


Conceived and born on such love filled days,

from the moment he held her he was blown away.

His heart did a flip and his smile was so wide,

his devotion to his daughter could not be denied.


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entry picture

~~Watching wet suited fella’s a’bobbing
Got to wondering and then some thinking
Why so much sitting, and waiting
Continuous bobbing with legs a’dangling
There goes a wave, what’s wrong with it?
Is he just enjoying a tight suited, comfortable, sit?

Occasionally...  Very occasionally, whilst waiting
Activity will occur, legs and arms wildly thrashing
Damn, missed the crest.  One of the bes...

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entry picture


There's mist on the Menai

There's geese in the sky

There's snow on the Mountains

As the mist rolls on by

It runs from the Swellies

To the Irish Sea

The mist on the Menai

Majestic and free

From the banks of the Briant

To Caernarfon's great ramparts

To the edge of the Llyn

Hear the Waders and Redstarts

There's mist on the Menai

Not a cloud in the sky


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By The Edge Of Water


By the waters edge we rest and play, 

toes in the water, feeling quite gay,

celebrating the warmth of the dancing air 

and the restful peace of that place we share.


A loving time with never once a worry, 

soft sounds of ripples that won’t ever hurry

and when the wind changes to a cooler breeze, 

we'll head on home for some warming teas.


We’ll spend the evenin...

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