#NationalMarineWeek 2021 24th July – 8th August. Tenth Day August 2nd : Rocky Shorelines. Have you written unpublished/published poetry/artwork about Rocky Shorelines, the creatures and plants that inhabit them ? Poetry and Artworks/photo challenge. When a week is sixteen days to account for the tides in Britain. Here are the second eight day themes: Aug 1st: Crabs and other crustacea, Aug 2nd: Rocky Shorelines, Aug 3rd: Mermaids And Sea Monsters, Aug 4th: Sea Shanties, And Other Sea Songs, Aug 5th: Ocean Vegetation Aug 6th: Deep Sea Aug 7th: Shorelines Aug 8th: What Should We Do For Sealife?

Day Ten-Rocky Shorelines

Rocky Beach 2Rocky Beach 1

-Both photos by Paul Brookes


The churning sea,
The land, Broccoli-topped,
dark, black, basaltic;
Giant pencils of ashen columns rise,
notched like kills on an axe-haft.

An echo below the cliff
leads to a mossy maw,
dark still pool
which hides a local legend –
Dragon’s teeth
that once sank a submarine.

Reaching from the peninsula
an arthritic claw
clings to a sister
like dementia.

A ruined castle teeters,
haunts the skyline.
Resists invasion still
with crumbled gatehouse,
wizened pride.

-John Wolf 2nd August 2021.

The Sea Cucumber

The sea cucumber
Is an odd little number
When attacked he turns inside out
What on earth is THAT all about?!

The Stinging Anemone

The stinging anemone
Repels all enemies
But not the clownfish, with which it reposes
In a state of blissful symbiosis…

Winkles and Whelks

How does a winkle tinkle?
And how does a whelk do a poo?
A clam can pop his lid up
And so can a cockle too
But winkles and whelks are lidless
Their shells don’t open to view
So how does a winkle tinkle?
And how does a whelk do a poo?

-David Smith (A.K.A Ivor Folio)

The Marine Sonnets:

Rocky Shores

My high tide mark periwinkles, limpets,
breaking wave spray moistens, incoming tides
and storms envelop them. Exposed In its
drying heat and extreme cold lichen thrives.

My seabed’s shoreward fringe between upper
and lower, dried twice a day, barnacles ,
algae, mussels, sea palms. Sea cucumber
catches passing prey in its tentacles.

My scoured fissures, fractures and joints, abrased
and weathered rock refreshed every time
with new water, my pools isolated
when it withdraws, small worlds redefined.

Every tide renews, sculpts, refugees new blood,
reinvigorates, new life, new food.

-Paul Brookes

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