The Sands of Southend

THE SANDS OF SOUTHEND

When I think of sand
I remember the golden sands
of a beach little-visited.
The sands of Southend
on the Mull of Kintyre
is made of softest gold,
stretching along from where hens
play in the road,
down to the waves
rolling over towards Ireland.
The old dilapidated lifeboat house,
long-abandoned in favour of
the calmer waters of Campbeltown Loch,
lies waiting for some industrial archaeologist
to rediscover and investigate anew.
White flat stones, the silver amid the gold -
ideal for skimming, (my favorite occupation);
those stones could bounce
full thirteen times
before sinking beneath the rolling waves - .
The sky above is sometimes blue as amethyst,
sometimes as sapphire,
but always precious, even when
from dark clouds the rains
of heavy storms pour
and mists obscure the view across Sanda Sound.
These are times when no-one walks
on the sands of Dunaverty Bay and Brunerican Bay.
Always the mist and the rain clear,
giving way to the sun,
on the golden sands of Southend.

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Ackworth, 1st April 1969

Publication

1970 MOUSINGS (Sheffield, Headland)