THE WALL UNPLUGGED... (My new poem about Mousehole, Cornwall...)

 The Wall Unplugged…

The predicted occasional showers became persistent wind-blown rain, suddenly

Cooling the midday humidity, causing disbelief and incredulity,

 As folks, caught unaware and wearing little, raced for cover, desperately.

And still the deluge raged, misting the margins of Mounts Bay in its entirety…

Then the weather changed, as if a spell had been conjured, or a lamp in a hall

Had been switched on, or a theatre’s footlights had lit up Mousehole’s iconic stage.

Holiday life then magically resumed, as if nothing had occurred at all

And the rainstorm was forgotten, as if Cornwall had simply turned a page…

The sea wall was deserted and as the June heat descended about me, I walked slowly,

Unhindered and largely I would guess, unseen, as a lively incoming tide,

Led by white-tipped waves began to engulf the myriad coloured rocks greedily,

Seeking gaps between boulders, dragging at strands of brown weed and hurling them aside…

It was isolated there, forcing a long pause for thought.

I saw no-one and virtually nothing except the buoys in the bay.

Yet I was fascinated by the miniature scene upon a block of stone…

A small dip in a smidgeon of rainwater, a little seaweed too, and like a tent alone,

In a flooded field, a small limpet clung on grimly, following the affray

Of the earlier rainstorm, its predicament untenable, its sustainability fraught…    

Pete Ray…

22nd June 2026… 

A poorly forecast bout of weather in Cornwall was a shock.

I had just driven to Marazion but didn’t even exit my car. 

The rain lasted quite a while, but then disappeared, leaving a humid, sunny late afternoon, like a scene change in a theatre…