Haiku: ‘Elements’

Photography is a great hobby to encourage.

Copyright Francis Barker 2020

End of the Holiday Season at Hunstanton, West Norfolk

The crumbling two tone cliffs at Hunstanton, looking north.
The lovely beach at Old Hunstanton, just north of ‘new’ Hunstanton.
Looking south at Old Hunstanton
Promenading at Hunstanton.

*Autumn is here, so let’s stay on top of things.

All photographs copyright Francis Barker 2020.

Hunstanton Seaside Town, Norfolk

Photo copyright Francis Barker 2020

Hunstanton is one of the better seaside towns of Norfolk, in East Anglia, England.

With travel restrictions in place for most of the year, plus a curtailed holiday season, many Brits have been making the most of their own backyard, including traditional the traditional seaside.

Almost unique, the resort faces west, so is known for its spectacular sunsets. Not too hi-brow, it has a certain old world charm, with a sense of lived-in Victoriana, especially towards the end of the holiday season.

Definitely worth a visit in these strange and difficult times.

Copyright Francis Barker 2020

Poem: A Walk by the Sea

a walk by the sea

Without too much thought I took
to the beach,
followed the white lines of
breakers
leading me due north along that
fractured shore.

in no time at all the beach huts were
behind me,
removed by dunes and blurring
summer haze.

then suddenly
she was there
right in front of me, as if she’d
dropped
right out of the ether.

she was squatting down,
blonde haired and
quite young,
her blue-green dress hitched up a touch
showing small bare feet
half buried,
where the dry white sand
gave way to shingle.

I stopped
said hi
but she didn’t even look!
staring into that wide expanse
she could see
clear across the ocean.

looking down I admired her
gold-embroidered dress,
the delicate amber jewellery on
slim fingers,
her long hair matted by
the keen breeze.

then she looked up,
her eyes like cyan gems
and pointed to herself–
‘Elfhild’ I thought she said
sounding sort of German
or Dutch or maybe something
in between
but I didn’t speak a word.

not then.

she didn’t seem lost or in any distress
so I moved on,
giving her a faint wave,
after all, what business was it
of mine?
I carried on steadily
maybe half a mile or so,
felt the wind move round
south to south east.
I could’ve done with a jumper so I
turned back,
got up quite a pace in the end.
frankly I wanted to return
to see if she was alright –
but I saw only footprints
where she had been, where the shingle
gave way to sand.

walking to the shoreline something
caught my eye, a piece of amber
wet and shining.
I picked it up, held it
to the light
and smiled, looking out
to where the waves
were rolling in by the edge of
that German sea

poem and image © copyright Dave Barker 2020

Poem ‘Between Lives’

Between Lives

“We are the sun,” you said,
that his light arose with us
playing on rainbows,
his myriad smiles the spangled waves.
In those days thoughts were endless,
vibrant pages which turned by themselves.
There were no limits to how far we’d run
or dream out onto the sea,
our hearts living free in a peerless sky.
But thoughts like books do have an end
and I have died a billion times,
holding on to every word you said,
like a child might ask a question
between the pages of his lives

poem and image © copyright Francis Barker 2012 & 2020

Painting: Holkham Beach, North Norfolk, England

Copyright Francis Barker 2020

Poem From A Picture: ‘The Happening’

PSX_20200128_085224

It was really happening here
back in the sixties,
before it all turned sour
and the seventies made cynics of us all.
Back then you couldn’t move;
gangs on scooters and motor bikes,
the Mods and the Rockers,
had set the scene before us.
Then Year One came along, or so we thought;
the Summer of Love opened our eyes,
blew our minds, until we realised
that we too had been wrong.
It’s kind of quiet now,
the sea has reclaimed the place for itself,
like it always will,
as we shuffle off one by one
to some other place
beyond that wide horizon

copyright Francis Barker 2020

Poem From A Photograph: ‘By The Sea’

DSC_0017 (3)

One day we will live by the sea,
take our time like we always said.
We shall walk along the strand
come rain or shine,
while dinner cooks slowly back home.
Though we won’t have much,
we won’t ask for any more: it will be enough.
Contentment is making do,
inevitable like the tides,
the changing season
and the portals of life

copyright Francis Barker 2020

Original Oil Painting, Heacham beach, West Norfolk

This is an original oil painting of Heacham beach in west Norfolk, completed on stretched canvas, unframed. Size 51 x 41 cm.

IMG_0420
Blow up of painting.

copyright Francis Barker 2019

Poem: Strand

beach foam landscape nature
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I walk out on to the strand
the only person around,
my shoes sinking some way
in to the fine washed sand.

The world of the town
is stacking high behind me
like multi-coloured pieces
of sweet rock and bubble gum

with the long line of beach huts
parading before them –
those little homes for the English
never wanting for their English tea

and comic newspapers
which they still read and believe.
But none of them are here now.
I’m looking out to the flat horizon,

a line of dark blue beyond
this stretch of local turquoise sea.
Somewhere around here,
maybe even on this easterly shore,

my DNA must have arrived
via Angle, Cimbri and La Tene,
a strand on this strand
in these islands afar.

copyright Francis Barker 2019

Tanka: By The Sea

sunset beach people sunrise
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A few summer weeks
Punters head for crowded coasts
Overindulgence!
The sun, sea and sand play games
Make September quite daunting

copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019