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
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