I love the ghost stories of M.R. James, the ghost half seen on the misty beach - thinking of "O Whistle and I'll come to you" or "A Warning to the Curious". This poem is my own take on the strange creatures that may haunt our beaches from time to time, especially when they are desolate and empty in wintry times.
The Sea Beggar
A thing half-glimpsed, a thing of rags
Collecting driftwood across the sands
Gradually filling the wicker woven bags
With painfully thin and hairy hands
Down at the shoreline, in the mist
An outline, moving steadily along
Making for a predetermined tryst
As something from a dark folk song
An empty beach and cold, damp day
Only a shadow, stranger on the shore
In distance, as night comes to the bay
And the tide brings its incoming roar
Many are strange tales told about the sea
And ghostly revenants that all should flee
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