Camping by the Sea: a #Poem

Camping by the Sea

Twenty miles of slow hills and undulant dales
Wound them from the urban to the wild shore
And found them now at rest beneath green flapping peak
Under broad expansive skeins of shaded greys
Inhabiting that lone place the cliff gave shelter
To one tent and two bikes

Still in skins yet wet from dipping cool grey waves
And crossing wet deserted flats of sand
They lay touching flanks on bellies craving
What the promise of bright burning wood
The sizzle of savoured scraps and stolen eggs
Will bring in heated bites

She has never done ‘this sort of thing’ before
For him it is a story much repeated
But he fails to tell a truth that must destroy
Instead relying on the lie of love
Her innocence and trust she gives in hope
Their congruence will last

They sit cross-legged and opposite
To chew from fingers scalded by hot fat
Slurp tea from chipped enamel steaming
Feeding energy and flavours new to her
In preparation for the dream she’s always had
Of her first time.