I RESIDE on a wooden seat
On Penarth Pier on the first day of Autumn.
Summer clings on like a lone lea
After November winds.
A flotilla of blue and white boats
Drifts out on the Channel mirroring the sky,
On the seafront people stroll slowly by.
An old woman in wheelchair admires the view
And pensioners in coats grey as the pebbles
Bask in the glorious late September sun.
I listen to the gentle snoring of the sea,
The sun painting the placid water silver
As waves caress the low-tide Penarth shore,
I could not wish for anything more.
A man is being filmed playing guitar,
His ghostly voice floats to where I sit,
Seagulls feast on the watery sand
As I view impassive Flat and Steep Holm.
This is the perfect answer to stress,
I feel contented and truly alive
On this sunny day before storm arrive.
Guy Fletcher
Pantmawr
Cardiff
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