Page 5

Scarborough  Marine Drive

 

Ill equipped to meet the weather

Started out to greet the sea

Captivated with its treasure

Hands in pools on bended knee

 

Softly tide flows, fills the hollows

Lapping silently around

She picks up her gentle hands,

To sift the sand for what is found

 

Silently the threatening water

Rises up to stay her step

Seagulls shrieking drown her cries

Her quickening struggles and regrets

 

No-one witnesses the drama

Only waves and wind washed shore

Where the night is darkly creeping

And her struggles are no more

 

Margaret Whittaker