A magnificent Monterey Pine Generous with it's shade and shelter Watches over the Penzance dead In a black and white photograph Like the dead... frozen in time
Old stone lantern in a Japanese garden I wonder whose breath last extinguished the flame Was it sweet and fragrant or sour with age Did they seek to plunge the garden to darkness Or merely make ready for the bright light of day
On the doorstep of Saint Michael's Mount A fishing boat plies it's trade A beacon for all the hungry gulls Who also earn their living From the bounty of the seas