At one

On the old oyster beds
as a tide at mid-ebb gurgles
and glints in the midday sun
Seagulls play and water shines

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The Seagull Serenade (reprise)

6 of 6 in the Jemverse ‘Seagull’ series

Alone on dampened shingle
The taste of salt around my mouth
I stand braced against a rising wind
And gaze out to the south

Seagull, Dance !

 

 

 

 

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Write me a poem, seagull.

 

 

It’s a gull’s life

“So, this wall in the sun
makes a great place to view
this town where we live
don’t you think, just us two?”

“You’re not wrong my friend
it’s a great place to be
down here by the river
not far from the sea”

Bob Marley seagull

It was raining in Brighton
and, strolling back to the car
parked there in Ann Street
from the centre, not far
We paused to admire
on the wall, ‘cross the way
some graffiti scrawled quickly
but with something to say

The fly-past

Gulls above the Metropole
a fly-past just for me
Here in Brighton in the sun
next to the deep blue sea

Seagulls passing

Sitting in the sunshine
by the river at high tide
A seagull came and perched
on the railings by my side
We had a little chat
as it seemed the thing to do
Passing a few pleasantries
before away he flew

Passing pleasantries

I overheard a conversation
above me in the sky
as two seagulls passed up in the blue
casually flying by
But as I am not fluent
in ‘Gull’ I’m sad to say
that I have no idea
of what was said there yesterday

Exquisite

I watched a seagull flying high
from an ebbing winter tide
in the sunshine, high above
his wings spread out and splayed with pride

The seagull’s cry

The seagulls’ cry
synonymous
of living by the sea

In from the fog

I could tell by all the seagulls
and the chap up on the prow
getting ropes all ready
that we were nearing Porto now

As a seagull

As a seagull I flew inland from the sea
Up in a yellow-tinged sky
Looking down with the freedom I commanded in flight
as I swooped and I soared up on high

Song of the sea

 

Bold the seagulls’ cry
reminds me of the sea
just a short walk away from home
waiting there for me

Strong the oceans’ call
I can’t ignore for long
brings me back to its embrace
woos me with its song

Two plump gulls

 

Two gulls flew into Manchester
on a rainy winter’s day
Forty miles from coastal waters
for what reason? Who can say?
Perhaps the Irish Sea was too
cold and rough out there
So they fancied flying inland
to a calmer place somewhere

Living as an ocean

 

I can close my eyes and drift away
with sea scent on the air
whilst the cries of seagulls up above
adds a richness there

I can drift away on a summer tide
as it laps up on the shore
floating as it ebbs away
as my mind cries out for more

Coming Home

 

Returning home from travel
never fails to warm my heart
For it always aches a little bit
whenever we’re apart
It a lot about the ocean’s smell
and the freshness of the air
Something that I always miss
whenever I’m not there

Solitude with seagulls

Sea fog hides my Sussex fields
Rolling in from flattened sea
But, masked from view, its fragrance
drifts in and welcomes me

The seagull serenade

Alone on dampened shingle
The taste of salt around my mouth
I stand braced against a rising wind
And gaze out to the south

Steve the Seagull

Steve the seagull ventured from
His nest one summer’s morn
High up on the rooftop
Where with his siblings he’d been born

Seagull

 

Jolly big young seagull looking for his Mum
Wandering round the car park, looking pretty glum
Mottled coat of feathers shows how young is he
Even though in size he may as big as Mum might be