I wrote this poem whilst on holiday in Newquay in the early 1960s. It was mislaid/forgotten until June 2025 when Marjory found it in some old papers. memories returned and I initially recall walking along a coastal path with notepad and pencil initially inspired by the sound of the tide. On return to the hotel it was finalised and rewritten and not changed since
Coastal Evening
The gentle ripple of the evening tide
The lighthouse beam that searches wide
A sun that’s disappeared from view
And a cloudy sky that’s no longer blue
The cry of lone gull that’s going to rest
In the gaunt black rocks that hold its nest
A ship drifts by in silhouette
It may go on for ever, and yet
Such a thing cannot immortal be
Unlike the vast eternal sea
The lights that were across the bay
Are devoured in some haphazard way
And finally there is nothing left to be seen
Save the night, that’s peaceful and serene
With the gentle ripple of the tide