Whitmore Bay in winter
A NOVEMBER gale over Whitmore Bay,
Clouds scurry across unfriendly and grey,
No children run into the chilly channel,
The Somerset hills just a blur now,
Angry wind carrying the ghosts
Of summer crowds as rain kisses my brow.
A November gale over Whitmore Bay
And no one sits outside the sad cafe.
A November gale over Whitmore Bay
The heat of summer seems so far away.
The Barry Island train is cancelled
There’s just a lone dog-walker on the beach
But I adore he wild solitude
Listening to the seagulls screech.
A November gale over Whitmore Bay
I watch the wave’s crash on this restless day.
Guy Fletcher
Pantmawr
Cardiff
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