Blue was all in vain.

Just a pewter field, 

stretched in eagle sight.

Waiting for cloud-cracked 

light to soothe,

this bag of summer bones.

Lungs held the harshing

of grey mornings.

Hoping for sun's heat 

on twice truncated seas.

And all that’s left

of noonday times

is glared and hazed

and pastel chalked.

Sky breaks, suddenly.

A shower, a spray of

diamond tears. 

Wild dancing lights.

A pleasing sparkled

early afternoon.

On its wet sand back,

gem fields, this meriel.

Hard argent light,

static breeze plays.

A thousand lights on

these twinkled seas.

There on tiny pebbles,

small ripples play the foam.

Eyes grazing on

acres of diamonds,

still reaching to love

untouched horizons.

And on the cisel bank

I fill my pockets

with a treasure trove 

of small black stones. 

©️ Dai Fry  6th June 2020.