Empty Beach

Good Evening, 

The following poem is about a childhood haunt of mine. I adored it there and still travel there with buy own children today. Every visit brings a new adventure and loving memory. 

Empty Beach

The sheer cliff edge crests out before me,

To down below, where the land meets the sea.

Wrinkling sands fluting this beach,

Kissing fallen rocks, wherever they meet.

Deep, cool rock pools hold the tiniest of lives,

And offer these lives secret places to hide.

Niches, crevices, pebbles - all places to dwell,

For odd little creatures; some huddled in shells.

High in the cliffs, lay gaping mouths of caves,

 Dryly they wait to be licked by fresh waves.

Splashing springs turn to clear water falls,

Tracking to the sea, down hard, granite walls.

Screaming above, the caw of common gulls,

Their sharp, shrill cries penetrating my skull.

Those aerial acrobatics as they take flight,

For a tasty morsel, over which they now fight.

Tasting the sea salt from my grinning lips,

Smelling the sea spray, as I count distant ships.

I’m burying my toes deep in the sand,

As I admire my place, in this alien land.

By Helen Stallard

March 21, 2014