Irene Hustwait

Rushden, Northants

Seashore

Wave dappled sand, smoothly inviting
Small naked footprints etched in your breast
Circling seabirds in pairs are alighting
On cliff face and rock to establish a nest
Driftwood and seaweed, washed up by the high tide
Tossed to and fro on your way to the shore
Loud plaintive call, as a solitary gull flies
Turning it's smooth wings seaward once more
Turbulent ocean, your sea horses leaping
Curly white manes plunging forward in line
Eager and lively their ranks ever keeping
Washing the shore with their salt laden brine
Tossing and turning, swirling together
Sometimes quite docile, others so wild
Frothy white horses which no hand can tell
Breaks into foam at the feet of a child!
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