Celebrating National Poetry Day

August, 2013

Tonight I walked along the estuary of my youth, 

Saw watercolour landscapes of hope and fear 

Watched the family outline in the surf,

Smelt the kelp and tasted salt once more, 

Heard the white noise of waves breaking at the bar,


The tinkle of dinghy bells, 

The relentless nagging of the gulls, 

The flap of ice cream banners in deserted cabins,

And witnessed the sun’s last defiant blaze,


As a crescent moon rose above Tyrau Mawr. 

November, 1968

A damp granite evening

Waiting at the old signal box


In an empty street

A pocketful of birthday cash

We were eating posh nougat

We pronounced it the Anglo-Saxon way, of course

Shivering, happy and ambitious.