A recent poem by Paul Mein………Hartland Quay ±1.

Hartland Quay #1

Heave of swell-sea bellows

forge without fire, restless shaper

ceaseless hammer

on the anvil of the coast.

The bay is full - 

a cold cauldron

of relentless rollers

rushing house-high

to spend on the boulder beach,

grope dark openings

of caves at the foot

of high cliffs, layers 

twisted to vertical

by an uneasy torsion aeons ago,

or hurl bursting against

jagged guardians of rock,

cataract to foaming, roiling

unforgiving boiling at their base,

merge with others

in aweful curling spume, careless fling.

A gull glides in vigil on the wind's whim,

clouds drift away, letting

sky and water clear from dull iron

to an iceberg's chill-blue depth.

A boy looks from the quay,

arms outstretched in welcome

to an ocean's power

he wishes were his.

©   Paul Mein    22/7/15