This week have been on new project at work with almost no down time, so only picked up a few pictures. One of them is a poem by Helen Woods, aged 12.
The Sea refuses to be a Sonnet In daytime the sea is in love with the sky; each wave Is reaching out to touch its blue-grey face The sea smooths gold in a blink and leaves it cold On the sand as a piece of twisted wood. The sea eats the ugliness of aeroplanes And spits out gannets, albatrosses, gulls The sea reads the words written on the beach And sings them to the sky, who rains them down On the rolling waves in high disdain. At night the sea blows breath of fire and lights The yellow moon, then eats its supper off it. It cries over life and the living, embraces the dead. No poet can tame it; it will not be a sonnet.
Thank you Helen:-)
Stay at home, protect the NHS, save lives. Please. (at least for now, until the boffins agree on some next steps)