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Poetry from within

A Sunday Morning at Cooden Beach

Rolling waves crash towards the shore

Lowering their heads like charging bulls

Losing momentum with the drag of the shingle,

They dissipate; falling back against the angle

Weakening their diminishing strength

On the pebbled shore, two siblings,

Test their wits at the waterline

1 – 2- 3 turn and run; laughing, screaming

With scrabbling feet gaining little purchase

Against the ever shifting instability

The boy is good; but the girl is caught

The seas tendrils whip round her ankles

Rising, lassoing her shins, like a magic rope

And she cries to her parents ‘I’m soaked’

Heading towards them, shaking her legs in turn

In gentle good humour, they laugh, and

With the recovery of youth she re-joins,

Her brother – to continue to test and tease

The hungry sea; like the Gingerbread Man

‘Catch me if you can - Catch me if you can’

The only other bystanders; husband and wife,

Stand close, sharing tranquillity of thought

Just taking in the power and overall beauty,

Of the scene – sweeping their eyes around,

The contour of the far reaching shoreline...

Normans Bay, Pevensey Bay, Eastbourne and

The vertical eastern edge of Beachy Head.

To their left, Bexhill is hidden, tucked back,

By the lay of the land curling in; Hastings afar

They smile at the antics of the children

Perhaps remembering a distant past

Their own silence broken by screeching gulls

And the ever repetitive sound of the swishing sea

Breaking in a low rumble against the shingle

Caught on the wind, voices and car doors filter,

From the hotel car park. The elderly couple turn

And retreat to the bar for morning coffee; with

The sea still visible via the large curved window

Its sound replaced by the general hub of conversation

It’s loss did not perturb the woman,

For she knew, whenever she needed to hear it,

In whatever mood they were both in

The ever rolling continuum

Would always be in her head

Jan Hedger