Trezūnger

Trezūnger, last house along the esplanade Stares out towards Polruan Point. In the growing storm I feel Atlantic. St Catherine stands Over the harbour, laying her claim to the sea Under the watchful gaze of the eye of Neptune. All the while The trees whisper to the waves in the wind and release Leaves and autumnal fragrance. Clustered cottages shoal Whitewashed in the lee by the ford-over-the-stones-by-the-beach. The tide and the air pressure low as nature sucks a deep breath ready for the storm

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Written by

owain

28 / M / Cornwall

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