Rototai revisted

Here at Rototai I walk
to where the tide's edge
chatters with the gulls.
Through the drifted wood
the stones and empty cockle shells.
Past the spoonbills
clustered by the river,
Past the small dogs galloping.


On and out
through the ocean bed
caught in the moon's pull.
Ears tuned to the sound
of a waveless sea,
the oyster catchers preet preet
and my own breath.


On and out in the warm sun
eyes on the floating blue.
But the tide stretches its tongue
licks my shoes
and the land is distant.


Unsure I retreat,
head down watching the water
and in the sand
the slither marks of sea worms,
the snapper holes and shapes
of stingrays' nests.

As is becoming customary, a trip down to the serenity of Rotorai is always welcome after a hard day's work. More visits here and here. It was looking quite different today, all mercury and golden tones, the sea still way way out revealing in places huge clusters of pearly white cockles shells. There were eight spoonbills in residence too and lots of oyster catchers. This rather lovely poem is on a plaque on a rock and I have accidentally omitted the name of the poet so will return and add it at the next possible opportunity!

Apologies for lack of blip connections but the last few days have been even more hectic than usual. As well as continued house painting and Esme frolics, I have also had to do an interview, via email, for a possible article on holy wells for the Irish Examiner. There were loads of questions and I seem to have written a small thesis - oh well!!

Just back from Joe's , a bottle of rose Prosecco shared, and now to catch up with Normal People. Has anyone else seen that? Catch up on blip shortly.