The Pebble Path to Peace

At evening with a heavy heart
I’d had enough of talk.
My mind’s reflections overwrought
I left the house to walk.

I came across it quite by chance
Whilst ambling by the sea.
I’d hoped to clear my head of doubt,
To find some certainty.

I dimly saw the trail ahead
Climbing to my right,
A Pilgrims’ Way to paradise;
It was not there last night.

Its pebbles seemed to call to me
To follow where they led;
To seek their end where ere that be,
Pursue them without dread.

Their blue and red encouraged me,
Spoke to me of hope,
Of everlasting certitude,
The means by which I’d cope.

They led me on beside the sea,
Meandered to and fro
Until abruptly then they ceased;
In front a golden glow.

The certainty I’d hoped to find
Was there in front of me;
A testament to Nature’s Grace –
The Glory of the Sea.

A feeling of contentment spread
Throughout my fatigued mind.
My body too relaxed in peace,
Resentment left behind.

I’d found what I was searching for,
Afforded by that path
Of coloured pebbles on the shore;
My soul’s search aftermath.

Both photographs were taken by me (WHB) one evening in 2009 
along the seashore of the English Channel at Swanage, Dorset, UK.

Chesil Beach, Jurassic Coast, Dorset

[ Photo Gallery # 99 ]

Chesil Beach is one of the glories of England’s coastline. The name derives from the Old English ‘ceosel’ or ‘cisel’, meaning “gravel” or “shingle”.  It lies at the eastern end of what is known as the Jurassic Coast which stretches for many miles along the shores of Dorset and Devon on England’s southern coast.  My Gallery this week displays a number of photographs which  I took there 10 years ago.

Dorset-Oct07 15 ChesilBeachfromPortlandDorset-Oct07 54 ChesilBeachDorset-Oct07 55 ChesilBeachDorset-Oct07 56 ChesilBeachDorset-Oct07 57 CheslBeachDorset-Oct07 58 ChesilBeachDorset-Oct07 59 ChesilBeach

Dorset-Oct07 61 ChesilBeachDorset-Oct07 62 ChesilBeach

 

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What The Sea Discards

Detectorist2bWhat The Sea Discards:   Life with a Beach Metal Detector

The sea still surged,
The storm still raged,
The wind incessant,
A beast uncaged.

Amidst the tempest,
Calm, intent,
Body taut
And forward bent,

Moves this figure
With steady tread,
Seeking gold,
His daily bread.

Sift the shingle
Trawl the shore,
Seashore scavenger
Beach troubadour.

Autolycus, his
Ancient counterpart,
Plying his trade
With bleeding heart,

To find amongst
The sea’s debris
His longed for love,
Life’s golden key.

Something to clutch
Dredged from life’s tide;
A token wish,
Beatified.

Detectorist1

Photographs by WHB:  On a West Sussex beach – October 2017   ©