Evening beachtrip

Such a gorgeous evening here in Cornwall. I love this time of year, when the days are long and the light is so pure and clean. I'm making the most of the empty evening beaches - won't be too long before summer fully arrives in the guise of campers, caravans and flocks of tourists who dither uncertainly in the streets like confused flamingos. It wouldn't be Cornwall without the summer tourist rush, and it's good that we get so many great festivals and happenings throughout July and August, but I've always loved this time right now. The quiet before the wonderful storm. And it really is beautiful.

Carne Beach, Cornwall

Perfect spot for evening meditation

Drawing lines in the cold, damp sand

She forms the words that lie softly on her lips,

As if those she loves will read them

All those thousands of miles away.

These thoughts,

Soon to be written into deep white waves

And whispered to the ears of distant shores.

She stands small and alone,

A pale figure in the midst of this open beach,

Calmly singing her hymns to the sea.

Bubble-wrap Rain

perched on a solitary leaf

the world gathers

all thoughts merge, concentrated

in the spheres of fresh rain

balancing their diamond scent on

the magnified cells below

seconds alone, maybe; yet

no space for other truths or quandries

one moment fully absorbed

and each day the seconds grow

open your eyes a little wider tomorrow

to the small, the beautiful, the overlooked

the sky is unbound, and it calls

In the blindness of shadows

In the blindness of shadows

I blink, heavy-lidded

As my clouded mind shuffles through the elements

Weary with the stream of troubles

That break their voices loud over each morn.

Where are the triumphs, the glories of innocent smiles?

If the silence of dawn could be splintered, but once

With a blissful victory.

Still, I dream.

A single candle-lit beacon to gleam on through the murky days

This pinprick of glimmering hope

For a philosophy, riding forth on the sunrise, reborn.