The Tide is High

A walk earlier in the week prompted this poem. It was not perhaps as dark as in the poem, but that's poetic license for you. The title, of course, is a steal from "Blondie" (I'm showing my age here!)

The photos can be seen at:

http://tinyurl.com/ppvc7r9

I'd have liked to photograph the happy children, so much enjoying the sea coming over the slipway, but we live in suspicious times, and I am content to capture the memory in a line of verse. I remember from my own childhood, and from my children's, how magic the sea is, how much fun it is to jump in and out of the breaking waves. We are so lucky in Jersey to be so close to the sea.

The Tide is High

Warm currents lashing at the sea wall
Spray flying high, the rocks submerge
A fraction of time, such moments small
Enchant, capture, in each tidal surge

Moon light rising across St Brelade's Bay
Bringing strong currents, elemental forces
Happy children splashing on the slipway
Waves breaking, white foaming horses

Shadows grow longer, twilight comes
Dusky maidens swim like mermaids
As darkness creeps, and light succumbs
The coast at night, the sea of shades

The tide is high at the end of the day
And salty breezes blow my way