Yesterday I was on this jetty as the tide came in, it is called Kynoches Foreshore and was once apparently used to bring in starch to make acetone. This would then have been used to make cordite for explosives! A serene place today full of bird song and the hiss of rushes.

So I wrote a little poem and tagged it here with https://tarkatrail.poetrypin.info but since this is a blog I thought it was just the place to put the poem too.

The boxes will not be out for too much longer, as I will collect them in by 1st October but so far there have been over 500 poems with a similar number of drawings and all by passersby.

Enjoy

Kynoches Foreshore

When the rushes stand silent

And the tide runs slack and low

Seven herons will sing

Of lost precious things

Caught by the muds below

And it is said beneath a sintering moon

The seven herons will conspire

To compare their cache

Of broaches and clasps

All caught in the sump of the mire

And if by chance

By the moon you glance

And see the herons converge

Then delay not a mo

Steel through the rushes below

But then retreat before the tidal surge

And your satchel will lay heavy with treasures

And your heart will beat wild in your chest

That is

Unless you are spied

Then the herons will guide

Your trespass to the young in their nest

Now only reeds will sprout from your fingers

And salt lick the locks of your shores

As seven herons assess

Beneath a moons deep caress

The addition of your jewels to their hoard