Pakefield Sea Front






Waves walking towards me as


I sit drinking tea at a pub by the sea


Thinking about fish running beneath the surface of the


Milky swirl of the tea as I swish my teaspoon around


Making whirlpools


Kites ripple and twirl around in the sea


Sailing boats fly overhead wrapped up


In seaweed


And wind turbines grow like regal flowers


Up through the gaps between the wooden planks


Of the table soaked in an ocean of tea


Feeding on the scatterings of brown cappuccino sugar


Left behind by a bleating sheep


Who abandoned pub-garden confinement


To bite and grind chunks of reinforced concrete


From the gravestones


Of recent arrivals.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool








Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

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