Looking At The Seafront, Marazion, Cornwall…
Harsh rocks, strewn like traps,
Disguised by strands of thick brown weed
Litter the skirts of St Michael’s Mount,
Poked at and prodded and pierced through gaps
By oystercatchers’, egrets’ and curlews’ greed
And too many skirmishing gulls to count…
A myriad pebbles, like shrapnel spewed,
Deposited and grounded by the continuous tide
Lie upon gritty, saturated sand,
Forming a crunchy pattern, constantly
Plucked at and pummelled and pounded aside.
In loose formation, huddled they stand…
And then the sea roars in its next angry tide
To camouflage the blemishes, the food sources and the dangers to hide.
Then with each surge, the ocean pushes
The thick, brown weed to form a defensive wall,
Its flies, its stink, its grotesqueness all designed to appal…
Pete Ray…
Written in December 2019, updated on April 16th 2026…
The incredible manner in which the Mounts Bay tide covers a multitude of ugly scenes…
The ragged rocks around the Mount, the unsightly weed in which waders pick around and also the formations of weathered stones higher up the beach and the thick, slimy, slick and pungent brown weed which in some places builds a metre-high wall…
Contrasts…
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