Beachcomber

Today I’m delighted to host a poem by my good friend Anne Steward, from her second poetry collection, The Colour of Light, recently published by Maytree Press.

Beachcomber

Stone made pebble, made grit, made sand, 
ground by pulsing, tidal force. 
Each beach a match, red, black, white, grey, gold 
for many-hued clays become bone-hard crust, 
worn away under water’s weight 
while deep within, rocks melt and roil 
like syrup brought to a rolling boil, 
moving plated-slabs to grind and rise, 
lifting mountains, folding land, 
so slowly we rarely feel 
Earth’s turbulent dance. 
Till there’s a shift, a sudden thrill 
to shake from us our dream of kings 
to pebbles rolling on the beach 
helpless in the drifting surf 
awaiting a beachcomber 
who never comes.

Anne Steward 

My family is at my core. I was a teacher, bookseller, and volunteered overseas. I have a love for the natural world, travel and capturing what I see and feel in poetry, prose and photography. 

My first collection, Casting for Words, was published by CMP as a result of a NAWG competition. My second book, The Colour of Light, has been published by Maytree Press. Beachcomber is from this collection. The lovely cover image is by Claire Jefferson. It chimes with my theme to perfection. 

The books are available from me (email casualwriter@hotmail.com), the Holmfirth bookshop, Read, and the Fairtrader shop, also in Holmfirth. The Colour of Light can also be bought from Amazon.

James Nash, a noted poet wrote, to my surprised delight: 
Anne Steward’s poetry is a miracle of observation. Her photographer’s eye and philosophical mindset gives us writing to feed both the senses and the soul.

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