When the Starfish Gathered (revised)

[titian dj]

I longed for the time of the deepening,
when a full spring tide rolled pebbles
and shells in Frenchman’s Bay. I was young
and lithe in those weed and kelp days
when boulders seemed lively with menace.

Low water urged me to probe and scramble
around the starfish pools, where limpets
and crab lurked like silent pirates
near the flowering red anemones.

I sensed ozone on the breeze,
watched as kittiwakes and fulmars competed
for the crannies, and still I climbed around
the starfish pools, where whelks
and winkles cruised like privateers
near the flowering red anemones.

The storms had taken their smuggled hoards
of rock, ruined arches and fractured stacks,
and piled them, against the bayhead cliffs, for winter
to grind. I watched sand stir in the currents,
bringing algae and slivers for the starfish
and the flowering red anemones.

As the tide turned and the grey North Sea
swashed and gathered, I thought
of high tracks and the green, green leas,
where walkers and dogs strolled and loped,
untouched by salt and whispering spray.

The sun and sea were merciful
during those quiet weed and kelp days.
All Marsden was To Let, all Heaven For Rent,

and the memory of coves and beaches,
caves and cormorants and starfish pools
warmed me, as I took a shortcut home
through the allotments, past the rugby fields,
by the groves and mansions of Westoe Village,
far away from the flowering red anemones.


Original

I longed for the time of the deepening
when a full spring tide chased amber pebbles
in Frenchman’s Bay. I was gentle
in those weed and kelp days when boulders
were lively with menace. Low water begged
me to climb around the starfish pools
where limpets and crab lurked like bandits
near the flowering red anemones.

The cliffs bargained with death and yet I knew
their paths and gullies. There was no fear
for limestone rock, no concern for ancient
compressed Sahara dunes. I could sense
ozone as gulls and fulmars competed
for the carefree sun, and still I climbed
around the starfish pools where limpets
and crab lurked like silent highwaymen
near the flowering red anemones.

As the tide turned and the grey North Sea
swashed and gathered, I thought of high tracks
and the green, green Leas where walkers and dogs
strolled and loped untouched by careless waves.
The sun and sea were lurid during those humid
weed and kelp days, all Marsden was To Let,
and the memory of yellow sands warmed me as I took
a short cut home through the allotments. I smiled for the tide,
caves, kittiwakes and cormorants and starfish pools
where limpets and crab lurked like anxious thieves,
searching for algae and slivers near the flowering reds.

[Saturn]

Excellent stuff titian dj

"...weed and kelp days"

Very fine indeed, thank you for sharing your work.

[ChildofWoz]

I love the recurring use of the phrase "where limpets and crab lurked like..."
I love it as a whole, actually Thank you for sharing!

[marwood]

I agree, lovely. memories of rock pools with my son.
Thanks.

[titian dj]

Thanks Saturn

Delighted to read that you enjoyed this poem of yesteryear,
I certainly enjoyed writing it. Thanks for letting me know,
it's appreciated.

Best

Bri

Excellent stuff titian dj

"...weed and kelp days"

Very fine indeed, thank you for sharing your work.

[titian dj]

Hi ChildofWoz

Thanks for the reply to this poem. Great to read that you liked the repetitions
and that you enjoyed the poem as a whole. It was a very rewarding poem to write
as I contemplated yesteryear and other things.

Best

Bri

I love the recurring use of the phrase "where limpets and crab lurked like..."
I love it as a whole, actually Thank you for sharing!

[titian dj]

Hi marwood

Great to read that you enjoyed this one and that it evoked so many memories.
Thank you very much for letting me know. I can see you, in my mind's eye,
exploring the rock pools with your son. I've done exactly the same thing with my boy.

Best

Bri

I agree, lovely. memories of rock pools with my son.
Thanks.

[titian dj]

Revised version. Hope you think it's an improvement.

Bri