This evening we were in a painting
with colours and contrast and hue
beneath a cloudscape of wonder
providing a wonderful view
It was just like a Constable landscape
above and around us out here
exquisite the joy that it brought us
for a message abundantly clear
It’s awfully jolly early
to be up on a weekend
But we’re off (us two) to London
to visit an old friend
And as we’re paid up members
we get an early special tour
There before the crowds get in
what our membership is for
The day began with sunshine
so I popped down to the beach
armed with paints and brushes
and a long pole for to reach
the top bit of the beach hut
as it needs a lick of paint
It took me several hours
but a craftsman I just ain’t
The image is built in a series of layers
First, a pale blue wash across the sky
Then, broad brush strokes of pale icy cirrus
With pen details of contrails crossing at the midpoint
Show me a colour, one that describes me
Look at my face – the colour behind my eyes
It cries for the sun and pines away on these rainy days
Curled in a ball and shivering,
It longs for a blue that paints the skies
If I could paint a thousand sunsets
I would capture every one
With a kaleidoscope of colour
Born of the golden sun
My palette would be filled
With yellows, reds and gold
And my brushstrokes on the canvas
Flamboyant, strong and bold
Massive wave hills were breaking further out than I had ever seen.
I told myself and my friend that I would stay close-by shore,
And go no further, no more.
Slipping into the icy froth of the rip express lane,
Passing familiar rocky point,
I sat on my board, just gliding seaward like floating royalty in a river coronation,
Absorbing solar praise,
Robed regally in wet fur seal like suit,
Laughingly shouting back to my friend enjoying the shore-break surfing:
“Check this out!”
Forgetting to embrace shoreline wisdom.
