Turn Of The Tide

Low ripples creep in eager waves,

Reclaiming grains of wind-blown sand,

To lay them flat within the damp, cemented matrix,

By degree, each one,

In exposed space,

Is over-run,

Again with water weight,

Where fine currents caress and roll,

The grains that had once been free.


◄ The Extent Of The Tide

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Mon 23rd Jan 2017 17:10

Thanks again for the comments Colin.
All were written on Penally beach in Wales within a few days. Lovely spot - lots to stimulate writing.

<Deleted User> (13762)

Mon 23rd Jan 2017 08:11

a lovely trio of short poems - feels like you were there taking mental notes, seeing the small things that perhaps others might miss

the first two lines echo the last two which I like - as if the whole poem is one creeping wave of water slowly moving over the rippled surface of the sand in those overlapping arcs before retreating to allow the next wave of waves to move a little further up the beach.

I think this is my favourite of the three. Colin.

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