THERE'S a gale over Penarth Pier

Blowing cobwebs out of my soul

The sun escaping from scurrying clouds

Creating a beautiful silver sea

Tuneless wind whistling and howling furiously

As a sign crashes to the ground.

People watch from the warmth of the cafe

But I wander on this blustery day.

The sand is released for it's low-tide

Seagulls screech, Flat Holm and Steep Holm

Are under the February sun's beam

As if a celestial omen.

A lone man and dog are on the beach

I can imagine Poseidon rising

Out of the silver and towards the shore

As I hear the sea and wild wind roar.

Guy Fletcher

Pantmawr

Cardiff