Author: Joe Jennings

Overlooking the bay.

Awakened by the harsh sounding
but soft breeze.
Shingle and shells slip beneath
my feet.
Paths of seaweed note the waters reach.
Debris of all shapes and sizes hide
in the rocks.
The sea plays its song for everyone
to hear.

The shoreline is dusted in brown,
fades to grey, and climbs again to green.
Boats, alone, bob and sway,
as a group they are still,
but singly they move.
This bay has been deserted
by bathers,
in their eyes, it is not beautiful
but in mine, it grows more
beautiful by the day.

This liquid blanket has many
Underneath lies a mystery.
Dark and dangerous, the
sea chips away at rocks.
Unusually, this bay devoid
of birds and wildlife
seems an eerie place.
But I feel safe in the

The water doesn’t judge me,
just repeats its movements
over and over again.
Almost recalling its steps
as if it forgot something.
Grey turns to white as
froth crashes into the

The sea, now nearly mirrors
the colour of the sky.
A storm seems imminent.
Sitting closer, my lungs
fill with pure air,
drops tickle my face,
washing my sins away.
Never before have I felt so
close to something so real.