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Bernard Pearson

At the Seaside in Wales

Oh Borth, you’ re a wild one!
Half in the maw of Cardigan Bay
Those houses like bunting
All strung out for the day.

As between mortar and pestle
Where the sea grinds the land,
Here rock becomes pebble,
And pebble becomes sand.

A Rufty-tufty little town
That lies like the Maginot line
At the end of the salt marsh
Where the sheep come in brine.

And the holiday makers
Run down to the sea.
And remember what it is like.
When they could just, simply be.

Bernard’s work has appeared in many publications including, Aesthetica Magazine and The Edinburgh Review. In 2017 a selection of his poetry ‘In Free Fall’ was published by Leaf by Leaf  Press. In 2019 he won second prize in The Aurora Prize for Writing for his poem Manor Farm.