I reached for a thriller
as holiday beach reading,
my spine a whole lot chiller
while corpses lay a-bleeding:
What evil under the sun?
I confess to no remorse:
‘And Then There Were None’
by grande dame Christie, of course!
A response to a fine tweet by Neil Philip, folklorist:
sibillant squeals,
insistent, persistent:
parent-pestering young gull,
close-following, food-demanding,
noisome, brain-numbing:
nature’s survival ploy
seconds tick, cries continue,
minutes pass with constant mews;
unsated hunger; wanders wide;
wonder of wonders! parent flies,
youngster follows, peace returns:
save for surf’s hiss, bliss now reigns
but I still hear it
standing proud, alone
part submerged twice daily, rock
surveys visitors
Church Rock, Broad Haven South, Pembrokeshire
raindrops on windscreen
dribbling down wiper runnels
draining to the sea
site’s ignoble fate
wizard’s influence replaced
by man’s effluent
Sign near South Beach, Tenby, Pembrokeshire
sea-washed stone in cleft
Nature’s art a false fossil
Leviathan’s eye
lifeguard uniform
scarlet yellow flag matching
red sun sandy beach
sand between wet toes
clings limpet-like, grains of
scratchy souvenirs
midsummer madness
bald head browning not quite burnt
must remember hat
Zenrinji 