DARK clouds over Whitmore Bay

The Somerset Hills with a celestial beam

As the sun breaks through a small cloud crack.

A few hardy souls swim in the sea

A thousand footprints lie on the sand

I imagine ghosts of those here long before

Their footprints long erased from this fine shore.

A seagull glides under a slate-grey sky

Unaware of its freedom and majesty

And a small corridor of silver

Paints the channel then disappears

As the skies blacken and people

Scamper up the beach as rain starts to fall

Summer showers don't worry me at all.

Guy Fletcher

Pantmawr

Cardiff