The Stormcock Community

Sandown Cliffs Isle of Wight circa 1969

[dedicated to Alison Morgan from Lee on Solent]

 

Silhouetted on the precipe 

Of a jagged hem of cliff

She darns her diary

With another day

Of flocculent clouds

And threadbare trees

Recording the patterns

Of that memorable feast.

 

Then, suddenly,

She turns to me,

And woven landscapes are replaced

Above the pleated sands,

And eiderdown of sea,

By her ageless, shining,

Crystal face.

 

How could she dare

To hold me eyes there

In the desert of her stare?

Being oh so cute!

Me the one that has never had to pray

For a paternal parachute!?

 

I'd always believed in good and evil

Enoch Powell and Evil Kineival,

John Lennon and Ian Drury

Even the judge and all the jury.

 

Moonstones, moonbeams

Pave the seashore

Angstroms measure

Our fathomned floor.

 

Paddling in the Universe

Of inanimate beings

Warm blood surging

Through my veins.

Over stability chaos whiplashes

Over my bare feet

The symphony crashes

 

In God we trust

The sailors cry!

Breakwaters collapse

Without knowing why

All your defences

Are left wide open

As your opinions suffer

Widespread erosion.

 

Copyright WATTERSON 1969