Roaring Water Bay

Where no two stones look,
or even, weigh the same

Where pebbles, children
of the rocks, roll in the tide

Where ebbed in seaweed
is left out to dry, twice daily

Where Mermaids sit, often
leaving combs on the beach

Where buoys and gulls share
company on wind blown surf

Where a Queenless Knight
lives in his terracotta castle

Where metaphor meets mirage,
fairytales, are easily imagined



Ps

3rd last line ref Monarch