#Writephoto #poised
Salford 6th September 2019
Perhaps it wasn’t such a great idea
Over your feet you fell
In pursuit of the
Scaly creature hiding in the cave
Everyone said it would catch you before it
Doyouthinkhesaurus ? most definately
#octpowrimo #acrostic #seasheep #underwater
Something on the seabed
enjoys the fare the simple algae provide
as the sea grass grows under their feet
something like what you’d see on the moors enjoys a feast
hopping around the sea bed and
eating his greens…much like a similar beast
existing above the water
perhaps that’s why he’s got a similar name
Now sat with the other beachcombers treasures
A home for the hermit crab
Until yesterday it was collecting plankton on the sea bed
Till it was hoisted up and placed carefully
In a yellow collection bucket, where it
Lived with others like it
Until the beachcomber created
Something to make his house guests smile
Mighty mystical creature of folklore old
Your reputation goes before you
Terrorising the neighbourhoods in days of yore
Head of an eagle, body of a lion
Invincible in flight – no knight could catch you,
Capturer of any treasure hunter wanting to get your gold
Altai mountain kings regard you as their guard
Looking after jewels brought up from the caves
Location : Brain and Spinal Injury Centre, Salford
In response to the weekly photo challenge
My close up photography has improved over the last few weeks,
definitions have become clearer – lines sharper
details of a spiral – every line in the curve awoken
in this little thing plucked from the sandy sea bed.
an awful long way from the shore , to get your picture taken.
A tale of a very hungry bin
Mother admired the
Relative speed of the team
Of waste disposal
Every third day
The bin would empty
With surprising speed
Till one morning
The refuse van
Sat solitary, outside gate
The bin Sat content
On the tarmac pavement
With apparent glee
Could it be
The bin man became
The receptacles tea?
Caught in a moment
by time in a rock
To this creature of the deep
it must be a shock
The old sea snail rests
by the sands of the bay
stoic and silent
with nothing to say
It’s given up swimming
in the waters of blue
nested in th’ rock face
with others there too
In its time our dear seasnail
had plenty to say
but its not with its cousins
in the water of the bay
Its encased in the stone
on the shore (known as lime)
that built up in th’past
(or prehistoric time)
But the children on the shore
to the sand dunes they flock
to see sea-snail resting
in its home in the rock
