Page 50 of Sea sores – A Brightonian Book.
At the hightide mark, on neither earth nor sea
but in the width between the two, solitary figures sit.
There is a cruel beauty in their silhouettes,
an absence in which can be measured some
of what each lack.
Out of bedsit and love that lasts no longer
than the dragonfly lives.
To the sunken meadows and a bellowing sun,
as if the sea is a healer’s hand under
which a heavy heart can lift its lowered eyes.
Love the poem and the video. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks and you’re welcome! If you decide to write an award post, I’d look forward to reading it.
Hey thanks so much. I’m glad you liked the work and cheers for the nomination. I’ll go check it out now.
This was a nice poem, Nick! It was complimented well by the video you provided. By the way, I nominated you for the Liebster Award! Here’s the link:
Hi Robin (again I’m currently bowing) I feel the sea has a presence all it’s own and is a powerful inspiration on a multitude of levels but perhaps all it’s influence comes from that inexplicable level of consciousness that resonates and recharges when sat still beside the motioning waves. Hope you’re having a good day out there and it’s almost the weekend (sort of 🙂 Cheers Nick.
The sea has indeed provided this for me on these types of occasions.