wet ghosts from the water’s depth,

Poems

The Winged Watchers

In the hush of morning,

when the sea yawns awake,

the gulls carve white lines

through the pewter sky,

their cries

the wild hymns of this place.

Oystercatchers stitch the shore

with orange beaks,

their small bodies darting

between whispers of tide.

They are bold as the waves,

their wings gleaming

like polished stones.

Farther out,

the cormorants rise,

wet ghosts from the water’s depth,

their black wings stretched

like ancient runes

against the wind’s

invisible song.

And always the gannets—

sharp as arrowheads,

they plunge into the dark mirrors

of the waves,

unafraid of what waits

beneath the surface.

Here, on these cliffs of Cornwall,

the seabirds are the keepers of time,

their flight marking the hours

between storms and sunlight.

I stand rooted,

a guest in their cathedral,

my heart echoing

their ceaseless, boundless rhythm.

---

Sad Mirrors

The sea leaves its sadness behind—

small, glinting pools

scattered like broken thoughts

across the shore.

Each one holds the sky,

but only barely,

a trembling blue

that slips at the edges

into sand.

What do they reflect,

these mirrors of water?

The tilt of a gull’s wing,

a cloud’s passing sigh,

the shadow of something lost

that the tide

forgot to take.

And when I lean closer,

my face ripples into theirs—

an unfamiliar softness,

a quiet I don’t recognize,

a sadness I almost do.

---

The Pleasure Centre

It is not where you think—

not the tongue’s bright spark

at salt, sweet, or bitter.

Not the pulse

of skin meeting skin,

nor the brief bloom of laughter

lit by wine or sunlight.

It is deeper, quieter,

a hidden room in the heart’s house

where joy hums

like a tuning fork.

It flickers in the mundane:

the clean snap of a sheet in the wind,

the scent of damp earth

just before the rain begins.

It awakens

when the world is still,

when a bird’s call

threads the morning like gold,

or the sea, endless and ancient,

unfolds itself

for the thousandth time

and you are there,

awake enough to notice.