Following on from the last piece is another draft of a poem in the sequence.


There's the constant itch to turn a phrase round
in a full flood of eloquence
when not needed for an atom's worth of sense
for at first you can see nothing special.

The familiar scene before you has only
its inherent prettiness today
and changes of colour as the sun appears and disappears
from and behind clouds
where the chocolate box view is predominant
and heavy with weariness.

Then the shape and swirl of sand hits the eye -
a real abstaction of nature
with a catamarran planted in it.

As your eyes focus on this area youn realise
there are no boundaries
no artificial frame
no device
although boys busy fishing do not see it

lifts the mere prettiness to what catches an artists eye
though nothing need be done
other than watch this art.




bw
James

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