Estuaries

1. Alnmouth

Dawn mist shifts
across the ebbing water –

on Bracken Hill
the tang of dew-damp fern
the stink of seaweed.

Stillness darkens
like a wave’s cold edge
the moment before its slow, glittering fission.

From salt reeds
a swan rises
glinting silver in the deepening blueness

a fading star
a dreamed coherence.

2. Laugharne – The Boathouse

The fire-hawk has flown, the elms long gone
from Sir John’s Hill, time passes, tides turn -
mud flats shine, silver streaked like rain soaked stone.
The fire-hawk has flown, the elms long gone.
Yet from the parlour gramophone
Dylan’s voice booms out, bombastic, stern;
the fire-hawk still burns, though elms have gone
from Sir John’s Hill: time passes, tides turn.

 3. Georgioupolis

Sunlight shifts
through eucalyptus woods; a streak
of sunlight shifts -
a sea-grey shaft, I watch the swifts
swoop above the sandy creek.
Across a crinkled limestone peak
sunlight shifts.


4. L’Aven

Mud flats shine
Beyond the beech trees’ yellow leaves,
the mud flats shine;
duped by beauty, I seek some sign,
a reason why my mind perceives
as lovely, these empty estuaries
where mud flats shine.

The poetry I wrote in the Spring of 2008 is probably the closest I ever came to fully embracing the technique, style and approach of New Formalism. The short lyrical poem which displays commitment to received form combined with a high degree of craftsmanship typifies the movement. The fact that I was drawn to this partly stems from my increased contact with poets contributing to Eratosphere both on the board and through Facebook. Also, I had just invested in a copy of Lewis Turco canonical work 'The New Book of Forms, A Handbook of Poetics'. The introductory chapters on the typographical, sonic and sensory levels in poetry enriched my understanding of technique and I am sure the influence of these ideas can be seen in the musicality of a poem such as 'Georgioupolis'.

The first poem 'Alnmouth' was written almost thirty years before the others; these might be thought of as responses or extensions of the older piece. I suppose the whole sequence could be summarise by:' I like estuaries, but I'm buggered to know why!'

'Laugharne - The Boathouse' recalls a visit to Dylan Thomas' house the in November 2007. The poem is an example of a triolet,  interesting because it is built around two refrains. As for the subject matter it recalls a morning we spent wandering along the wooded shores of the Taf estuary followed by visit to Dylan Thomas' house. The sense of time passing in the poem nods towards my first visit there in 1974; I was just 19 years old. I'd  hitched there one scorching hot July day arriving in the late afternoon; I had a sleeping bag with me, but no tent, so I slept on the beach waking up next morning  damp and cold to the sound of gulls and the smell of seaweed.

 'Time passes' is a repeated phrase from 'Under Milk Wood' - which is set in a fictionalised version of Laugharne, - mischievously renamed as Llareggub by Thomas.



Dylan Thomas' writing shed - a converted wooden garage.

The interior of the shed, with memorabilia of Thomas.

Autumn mist and Dyan Thomas' 'house on sticks'



More or less the same view as the one I woke to in 1974.


The final two poems in the sequence are both examples of an old French form - the Rondelet. The first celebrates the tranquil beauty of the estuary of the river Almiros near Georgioupolis in northern Crete.

Twilight. Georgioupolis, Crete.



Eucalyptus trees and the Lefkas Ori overlook the harbour.



The river Almiros is sometimes called, somewhat romantically, the Turtle River

The second poem is written about one of my favourite spots on the planet, the Aven estuary in Brittany. Gill and I have come here for decades; it is a lovely, peaceful place, especially a kilometre or two downstream from the river mouth beyond Kerdruc among the woods of le Henant. Copies of the  photographs below hang on the wall next to the computer where I write. Why I find solace and inspiration in them I simply do not know.

Low tide. l'Aven Estuary

The chapel, le Henant

An old hulk

Taken as a whole 'Estuaries' has a reflective, wistful feel. All of the poems celebrate places that Gill and I have visited or lived in.  At the time they were written Gill was recovering from  a worrying health scare. At such times I think you are drawn to the places that mean the most to you as a couple. I am looking forward to revisiting the area around Nevez and Pont Aven again, hopefully soon, together.