Spurn point has a muddy majesty
a spit of sand and shingle
earnest estuary
brushed with Marram grass
and holy Sea-buckthorn
her trust eroded
but seldom torn
There is a pilot light
for her crashing doubt
a simple magnitude
hollowed out
Lies and lines are lost north east
Where eroded truth creates her beach
and I am tide to her fragile fate
a liar bound by his shallow strait
a spit of sand and shingle
earnest estuary
brushed with Marram grass
and holy Sea-buckthorn
her trust eroded
but seldom torn
There is a pilot light
for her crashing doubt
a simple magnitude
hollowed out
Lies and lines are lost north east
Where eroded truth creates her beach
and I am tide to her fragile fate
a liar bound by his shallow strait
Spurn Point rings a bell but I'm not sure why. Don't think I've ever been there.
ReplyDeleteI like the lines about "There is a pilot light
for her crashing doubt."
Beautiful, just straight out beautiful. If only it were not so sad, I'd say it was one of your best.
ReplyDeleteHi Dicky,
ReplyDeleteThe spurn peninsula juts out from the mouth of the Humber estuary. It's a fragile spit of land that is subject to constant erosion and deposition of sand and shingle. There is a road that runs the length of it with a disused light house.
Thanks Fringe, means a lot that you read that, liked it and commented :)
Another very wistful poem, so evocative the line about eroded truth creates her beach. I can see in my imagination the scene you have painted with your words.
ReplyDelete