"Tranquil after the Tempest" (Entry 551)

Tranquil after the tempest.  

Clear and distant. 

World in focus.

Crows call and crowd on cobbled beach. 

Pebbles tumbled like peanuts in a forlorn drunk's bar bowl. 

Ducks fly in haphazard formation,

To smack onto mucky water.

Squadron permission to land - dive into arrival, flap, slap, splash then rest. 

Starlings flit, too many to count

Are they really there?

As they skim sea's surface,

Playing havoc with the eyes,

Dark specks above white wave flecks,

Seeming to exist in numerous realms. 

Spectral dots in spacial dimension. 

Lone seagull fights for territory 

On surf and turf. He can hold his own. 

Calm after the storm?

No fear!

Life goes on, even here. 

"Prelude to a Fantasy Life" (Entry 536)

He stood on parapet,

staring out at verdant rolling meadows.

Farm workers plower fields, the start of the season.

He sighed as he turned to look beyond the cliffs

to see the sparkling surging sea.

Glistening azure as the sun rose on this day.

He love this country.

His country.

Commanded all he could view and beyond

to the green deep oceans that lapped his island.

A jewel which would have never existed,

if he hadn’t been born.

"Ship to Soul" (Entry 497)

Gentle lap against iron side.

Lost of gentle roll.

A busman’s holiday off shore,

to sea where lies his soul.

"tides" (Entry 477)

tides rise and fall

but never turn -

just like you

will never learn

"Coast Road" (Entry 438)

Drive the coat road. 

A signature scrawled. 

Bend beyond bend. 

Chiseled melt of sand belt 

Against soothing moving vast potion of ocean. 

To drive, to see,

For, I am home. 

My place to be. 

Single lanes of dipping, slipping, Tarmac'd heat. 

Overtaking, sliding, squeaking on leather seat. 

This slick grey snake slinks 

from north to south, south to north,

As sun slices and sinks beyond 

the ebb and flow of expanse burst forth. 

To drive, to see. 

For, I am home. 

My place to be. 

My place to be. 

"Seaside Delivery" (Entry 362)

Yellow tape tied to sticks in the ground

surrounded the beach. 

100 metres corner to corner.

The waves splashed gently 

inside the area now known as

"Police. Caution! Do Not Cross."

The sea lapped, unnoticed, 

at the shape,

it had cradled and carried

and delivered to the land. 

Pink turning grey and swollen. 

Jelly-like with matted seaweed hair. 

Now covered with flies and gritted sand and

a by-passer's towel. 

An act of decency and dignity to the dead. 

For this beached deceased mermaid,

spat out from the deep bitter marine,

was once a girl who

laughed and lived. 

Now, she was Jane Doe. 

A homicide. 

"A Memory Whim of Learning to Swim" (Entry 354)

Air-filled red rubber squeaks

As bands are pushed up twiglet arms,

To leave a white ring against a tan. 

Tip-toes tap along hot sand,

To reach the lapping coast,

That licks at feet like over-excited puppy relieved that its master is home. 

Tentative tootsies taste the water. 

Cool and nippy against sun-fried skin. 

To knees, to waist and torso. 

Low gradient makes easy gauge of depth. 

A leg raises, a wave and hasty return. 

To try again and hold. 

Then, with brave breath, the other. 

Salty sea hugs and balances. 

Kick of foot. Flap of hand and 

Swimming!

Confidence increases until

Large strangers bounce past. 

Water hits face. 

Flail and panic!

Head disappears. 

Come up choking. Crying. 

To stop on realisation of

Feet upon sandy floor. 

Stand up near the shore. 

Only waist deep!

Run on back to

Sympathetic parents who

Buy snorkel mask. 

Problem solved!

Straight into the sea. 

To play and splash in the

Heated surf beneath flaming sun. 

By mid-afternoon,

Arm bands removed,

And tide-lines disappear to

Shade golden brown. 

Within a day, a swimmer. 

A mermaid of the Mediterranean sea. 

*************

Me and my dad on the beach - Malta circa mid to late 1970s!

"Lagoon of Your Own" (Entry 350)

Lagoon glistened. 

Proto-waves lapped volcanic rock. 

Go on, Signore, dive in!

It sang dal Segno.

It's fine! It's your sign. 

Dophin-print towel shrugged from shoulders. 

A heap at his feet,

as he kicked away worn leather sandals. 

Brush back hair. 

Leaving sunglasses perched upon nose. 

Without second view.  

He ran up and he flew.

Water and man becoming one. 

Pushed up from sandy floor, he rose. 

Through crystal waters,

As warm as any Sunday night bath before school, or now the dirge of 8 to 6. 

(It's inflation of the 9 to 5, but that's all left back in his other life.)

Now, this was THE LIFE!

He grabbed his glasses as they floated past 

to reposition them to their rightful place. 

Now, this was THE Rightful Place. Delightful! 

He sighed, laid back to rest on 

salty soothing cradle of 

gentle rocked sea,

crooned to by the sizzle of sun's ray. 

This was where he belonged. 

Where he should be.

"Storm Slipped Sea" (Entry 333)

Sally forth. 

A surge of sail. 

STORM!

Shipwrecked.

Smashed, splintered, slumping. 

Soaked in sea. Unseen. 

Swam no more. Struggle. Too sore. 

Shore too far. 

Showered spread squall 'tis all. Slipped to sink. Sunk. Swell. 

Seep so deep. 

Simple search sought naught. 

Silent surf sleep. 

"I. Always." (Entry 299)

I exist,
Amongst the stars,
Soaring through bright blaze of nebula
Secret pockets of folded space.
Beyond the sight of telescope.

I am,
Within the earth.
Unseen fingers wriggle in claggy cold clay.
Invisible toes stretch in mossy peat,
Where the wild world grows.
Caress Earth's surface and feel her breathe.
Go deeper and entwine within her heartbeat.

I live,
In oceans,
in the deep to dwell,
then ride upon the blustered swell,
To land as dew upon a daisy petal
Kissed by fleeting butterfly’s hush.

I survive,
In the air,
Hear my choral rhapsody within the wind,
be carried as dust wherever it blows.

I am there,
Always,
Part of The Universe - my home.

"Yarns of the High Seas" (Entry 228)

The storm rolled in the scent of ocean fog,
Ozonic tang mixed with far-off cities smog.
The smell of tall tales from squat sea mariners
of monsters and maidens and the drowned hereafter.
The whiff of adventures hoisted high on masts
returning salty emotions of sea change and laughter.
The fishy fragrance of replenished stocks that deep dwell.
Crustacean from oppressive depths who cracked a smile before their shell.

"Water's Wave" (Entry 225)

How do I begin?
A touch.
A stroke.
A sin.
Water waves across my skin.
To dive, delve, drive through and survive.
A crash of caress, the best to be alive.

"Momentous Moment of Mystical Bliss" (Entry 195)

She reached the ocean's edge.
The candles held by her companions
reflected on calm silken surface,
joining with those lights of the stars,
who had come out to watch
this momentous single moment of mystical bliss.
She accepted the words of blessings
and, with freewill,
stepped into the water.
She became their sister,
one of the star children.
She was cleansed and energised.

"Sun's Journey Across The Bay" (Entry 168)

The cool dawn shimmers and shivers.
Anticipation of a new day risen.
The glance of rays on glassy waves.
Smouldering boiling frothing a broth of middays hues,
where rainbow crystalline spray brakes and cascades back to the whole.
Bathe in the afternoon's heated perfection
as heat and light conjoin in swimmers delight.
Then dipping sun sends on last hurrah
in twilight's ripple seen from afar.

"As Above, So In The Deep" (Entry 166)

The world swam into haze,
in the crazy dreams of unaware moments
hooked together in puzzles.
Click!
The ocean parted into darkness.
Alone.
The First.
Spark!
The switch
clicked to the trillion voices
of the stars
which sang like fish
in tropical depths.

"First Time" (Entry 110)

"There's a first time for everything!"
He yelled.
As he jumped out of the plane.
All about firsts.
The adrenaline junkie.
Trying all things dangerous
and strange
and new.
Not one to live in fear,
so everyone thought.
They were wrong.
Everything he did was because of fear.
A childhood full of scared and scarred memories.
Only way to deal -
Go for it!
Full engines, raring to go.
Cars and mountains
and treks and bikes
and rivers and oceans
and food. Any notion.
Trying everything that came his way.
Even today.
First time for everything,
as this red letter day
led him to skydive.
First time for everything
and today
was his first time to die...
and his last.

"Small Fish" (Entry 68)

The shoal swam turning swirling in the eddies.
Jasper took a gulp and entered the sway.
Nothing at school had prepared him for
his first day at Guppy, Pilchards and Sons.
A small fish in a gigantic pond.
He already felt like he was swimming against the tide.

"Sacrifice on Salted Air" (Entry 49)

Stumble over seaweed slimed rocks at cave's mouth.
A foot jammed in gap.
Crimson gory pours from new gash,
slashed by jagged edge.

Profuse swears
to damn the day.
Words gush to
reinforce the salt water
rubbing into wound.

The time made worse
by circumstance would not be here.
Oh, to curse the curse
and needing  cure.

Deep and melodic
female voice rumbles to
demand who dares profane
the air.

Trembled torn step forth
to meet the eel black darkness
slipping from the cavern.

Incorporeal made to silhouette
to bulk hidden in barnacled burlap cloak.
Throated gurgled giggle reaches to shriek.

"Blood!"

"Green Flash. Dash!" (Entry 28)

The green flash of the last glimpse of
setting sun,
stayed on retinas,
when gone from view to become
Horizon hidden.

End of a perfect day.
Perfect holiday.
Bliss of the new,
relaxation revealed
by throwing off the mundane,
like taking the lid off the coffee cup,
let out the steam,
a time to cool down.

Lean back on tropical print padded chairs,
how this realities tropical life fares,
to sip exotically fruited
alcoholic booted cocktails
at dark wicker bar.

Watch the light change,
the spectacle of natural fireworks on slow,
from white hot to hazy yellow,
green flash, to reach orange,
warmth of deep chakral red towards
where purple dwells.

But wait!
There on the horizon,
a notice of something,
a flicker,
as if the whole edge of the world crumples
and sighs.

The party on-going surrounds,
vacation in celebration.
Time, just a moment, stops
and stomach knots.
As the ocean plays a trick,
to slip
backwards from the shore,
pulling further away,
had enough of play.

A second to stare.
To realise
to be aware.
To be part of the
pitiful handful to perceive.
To stand and run and
sound an alarm,
not now to grieve.

The ripple expands,
to wave in full spate,
to rush, to flood,
to overwhelm.
A surge on this spiteful day.
Tsunami!

"How the Hours Pass" (Entry 27)

The passing of hours are like a stone,
or pebbles on a beach.
Either many out in front of you,
or washed away in the swell and
out of reach.
The hours can be heavy,
a drudge to carry,
too heavy to lift.
Or light enough to skim on past
from waters edge
so fast.