The ROCK

Triassic Red Rock at Exmouth, Devon … Photograph WHB – 2010

Offcut of the Jurassic coast
Orphan of the distant cliffs
Detached from its mother lode
Now an imposing sentinel
A majestic rock
A Triassic red rock.

Descendant of the Devon Cliffs
Ancestor of a million pebbles
Reliving its life in isolation
Facing the diurnal tides
Confronting Poseidon’s rage

Andromeda’s chains now long cast off
This pedestal of the shoreline
Now serving a valued purpose.

Harbouring shore life
A haven for gulls
Cosseting kelp
Succouring seabirds
Sheltering shellfish
Anchoring limpets
Its periwinkles
Feeding on its algae

Minimally diminishing with every tide
Yet serving its constituency
With resolution.
And promising
Its adherents
A fitting future.

The Sandman

THE  SANDMAN

The sandman looms

long and low in the westerly sun

on the evening shore

treading his beach

with dedicated feet

an image hunter

heir of Autolycus

searching

 for Nature’s hidden ornaments

probing with his stick

revealing the sand crabs

tempting the tide to turn

and wash away his presence

leaving no imprint

only a fleeting glance

a captured instant

of memory

of another world

arcane and mystical

beneath the sand

before the glimpse

releases him

and he moves on

into the dying day.

The Sandman was spotted on the beach beside Bamburgh Castle, Northumberland,UK, in 2003 …
Photo and sketch …  WHB

Runswick Bay

‘Runswick Bay’ … WHB – Pen & Wash 2012

Atop the sea cliffs
I tread the uneven
foot beaten
 wind worn path
I turn and look back
look down
along the line of this eastern shore
across the arc of the bay towards
the cliff-clinging terracotta cottages
carved from the rock of the wave beaten coast
I watch the writhing waves
pound the seawall rocks
insistently biting into the land’s defences
high casting their salty spume
into the sky’s blue blanket

and all the time beside me
at the path’s edge
the rustle of waving barley
their sighing hush
competing with the sea swell
to bring the landscape into one waving vision
the smooth surface tension of the early summer scene
contesting the still silence
of the placid inland rolling moors
delighting both eye and mind
and bringing contentment
to a world of both beauty and sorrow

Runswick Bay is a small coastal village, set in a sweeping, sheltered bay on the North Sea Coast of Yorkshire. It borders on the North Yorkshire Moors National Park and the Cleveland Way National Trail runs on the coastline above the village.

Hope In The Sea

‘Ebb Tide’ … WHB  2017 ©

 

The promise of the sea
As it thrusts towards the shore
Is of resurgent love
And with it
the swell in my heart soars
Its tide in turn repeating
What once I had before
When life was young
And in its flow

Now as it ebbs
It is not easy
To renew that glow
Which once provided
all the hope
Of future bliss I ever needed
When sun kissed seas
Spoke loud their passion
Their cresting waves
Breaking one on one
In repeating fashion
Mirroring my wishes
Releasing desires
Bringing the froth and foam
Of hope
To these cool shores

Ribbed sand now reminds
Of what is yet to come
The ripples of my heartbeat
Become the breakers
bolstering my breath 
The thrill of expectation
Arriving with the tide

On what distant shores
have those same waves
Broken their strength
And torn in two
My harried heart

 

Till The World Ends

Detail of a Dante Gabriel Rossetti painting, modelled by his wife, Elizabeth Siddal

PROMISE TO A LOST LOVE

As the pull of the moon
And the push of the wind
Cause the waves to break on the shore,

So the lure of your face
And the pulse of your heart
Will ever my lifeblood restore.

Till the tides end their flow
And the breeze ceases motion
I vow it’s just you I’ll adore

For when the end comes
And I’m covered in earth
I’ll be with you for time evermore.

 

North Yorkshire Coast #1

[ Photo Gallery # 78 ]

After my three Photo Galleries displaying the delights of Whitby, my next two galleries will cover some of the delights of the Yorkshire coast further north, now named the ‘North Yorkshire and Cleveland Heritage Coast’.

‘Heritage Coast’ sign at Sandsend

A sea mist masks the church and gravestones of the coastal village of Hawsker

Evening view to the north from the beach at Sandsend

Rough sea looking south towards Whitby from Sandsend.

Misty morning beside Westbek at Sandsend

The picturesque artists’ village of Runswick Bay

High tide in the bay at Runswick

Further view of Runswick Bay

The old mining village of Skinningrove where the Kilton Beck meets the North Sea and still runs red with the iron deposits carried down from the surrounding hills .  Known as ‘Britain’s Iron Valley’.

Kilton Culvert (N.B. not one of my own photographs)

Three views of the ‘Repus’ Cobble, an old Skinningrove fishing boat now positioned looking out to the North Sea from the beach at Skinningrove.

It is not clear why this cobble has been named ‘Repus’, but it has been pointed out that the name spells ‘Super’ backwords!

Manning the prow of the ‘Repus’ Cobble

‘As When …’ – Three Haiku

‘Farne Islands’ Northumbria … Photo: WHB – 2012

As When . . .

THREE HAIKU

 

As when the waves rage
So does my turbulent life
Beat upon my shore

As when the sky weeps
So do my eyes shed their tears
For those friends now gone

As when the wind gusts
So does my discontent rage
For those without love

 

 

A Dreamer No More

Ardminish Bay, Isle Of Gigha, Scotland – Photo: WHB  2001   ©

 

At The Sea’s Edge

I long for those times
When I sit by the sea
Breathe in the salt air
Feeling wanted yet free

Just to linger alone
On the beach of the bay
Is to lust after life
Till the end of the day

To cry out aloud
To the gulls and the terns
Will bring me alive
Till eternity burns

To feel the wave breaking
Its power at my feet
I would give up a fortune
My journey complete

Firm sand underfoot
I will tread as I go
Splash in the ripples
My delight I will show

I’ll follow the shoreline
and mirror its arc
The rocks I will climb
To the high watermark

Then I’ll trickle warm sand
From the cup of my palm
To steady my senses
Bring stillness and calm

I’ll melt into the moment
My heart will stop beating
I’ll hold onto the thrill
Though the memory is fleeting

But to sense you were with me
In body and thought
Would bring to my dream
Everything that I sought.

These are the moments
That I have longed for
My lifetime’s summation
A dreamer no more

 

 

What The Sea Discards

What 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.

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

 

 

Death Is An Unmapped Sea

Photo:  ‘On Chesil Beach’ by WHB – 2007   ©

 

Day dawns and life now reasserts its sway;
Sleep ends and dreams now slowly fade away,
Leaving behind the gains which I thought real.
Reality and the sun the truth reveal,
That time has shattered youth and brought old age.
Shall I depart midst over-arching rage,
Those aspirations which I held most dear,
Abandoned now as hope gives way to fear?
Now that I’m hurt, unheard and unfulfilled,
Can I refute those truths my life distilled,
And face what unmapped seas fate holds in store,
Without a faith to bear me to the shore?