121 – Fishguard Harbour, A Summer Evening

Poem number 121
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Fishguard Harbour, A Summer Evening
.
Boats lie all tilted on barnacle ground
Anchors redundant, no water around
The tide is as out as an out tide can be
So the harbour is grounded, not part of the sea
Just mud flats and rock-pools and seaweed left stranded
Amongst all those boats sitting skewed where they landed
But then the tide turns as the evening draws on
The water floods back, bit by bit the mud’s gone
And the boats, one by one, are afloat in a bay
Not stranded on mudflats but drifting away
So the anchors, awakened, are needed once more
Their lines growing taut as I watch from the shore
‘Til at last there’s a harbour, replete with a fleet
The Fishguard Armada, reborn and complete
The last rays of sunset reflected in red
On the darkening water, I should go to bed
But I stay a bit longer, entranced by the view
Just enjoying the harbour, now risen anew.

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