The waves

31/01/2021
The waves

The waves soar,
as they erupt onto the beach before them,
In the freezing water,
So stony and icy cold.
I can imagine the prickle of hairs,
Wading through the water,
Bringing near frost bite to my toes.
They are truly magnificent,
 in how the moon makes them work,
 How They lap and they fold,
As the tide comes in,
Sometimes forceful,
Sometimes just a mere ripple in a pond.
In and out it’s unstoppable,
Until,
With the last bit of land it can bond.
It suddenly stops,
Retracts,
As the tide goes back out,
Never past,
The depths in the middle,
and never,
Over the other side and beyond.

Fresh salty foam,
Drifted in,
Upon the tides surf.
Kissing only the bits of land,
Of which,
Is the oceans turf.

Long grass and reeds,
Mixed with sand,
Clay,
Rocks and freshly laid seaweed.
Shells,
Pebbles and even tiny crabs and fish.
All washed up,
Left on the beach,
All left just outside,
The retreating tides reach.
Leaving for all the sea birds,
A most delightfully,
 Delicate delicious treat.

10 feet closer,
To the earths core,
As hot as the fiercest hearth.
Lays an oyster bed.
One of the most extravagent and expensive of shellfish,
To be gifted for free,
Just under the seabeds earth.
Like seedlings dropped from a tree.
Forever spreading their beds girth....

I love the history,
All around us,
Here at the point,
Of our peninsulas bay.
Flotsam of wrecked ships from the wars,
Back in the day.
From when we housed the best of the best, of Britain’s navy.
Their mangled hulls,
Stuck in the mud,
When it's tides time,
To turn away.
Revealing treasures,
Hidden within the shells,
Rocks,
Mud,
Seaweed and clay.
Be careful though,
Don’t  be fooled by appearance,
Especially its’ still,
Serene and soothing beauty.
As it's fooled many,
Even on a hot summers day.
Getting sucked into the mud,
Nearer to a pirates booty.
I love our beach,
In its' quirky,
Sometimes dirty ways,
How we’ve 2 rivers,
That at our peninsulas point,
They separate,
At the estuary.
There’s also a port,
From either side,
Then the marvel of them all,
The opening to the sea.
An exit by boat,
Out of our English territory.

I could be fishing with my kids on our ,
Mini fishing boat.
Making sure we each have life jackets,
In case disaster strikes,
And we need to stay afloat.

Or fishing from the beach,
With the wind nipping at any exposed part of our bodies,
Rapidly losing heat.
But as long as we’re having fun,
I don't mind a five minute drive mini fishing trip treat.
We only live once,
So all parts of nature I want to greet.
Even if it means midnight fishing,
With icy cold hands and feet.
It is rewarding though,
Seeing the smiles on my boys faces,
As they catch the food to eat.

We love it here,
We love the peace.
We love the views,
Around the whole place.
Beauty personified is everywhere on the water.
From the lights that reflect a mirror image when still,
On a river with no waves,
Not even a ripple.
To the summer suns warmth,
That shimmers off the water,
In a haze.
My kids start swimming in it,
In either April or may.
Me?
More July or August,
In I’ll sway.
My boys and I,
Loving our all year round,
River memories!