The Shore

I spy with my little eye
Down by the shore
Fulsome flotsam – effluent galore
Entangled refuse – broken glass
Canine litter fouling the grass
Walking along stony beach
Pollutants within offensive reach
Sewage slapping rock and shingle
On high water mark they intermingle
Seducing whelk breeding ground
With sensuous sweet soothing sound
Consider harvesting in haste
Thro’ contaminating clinical waste
Sharps freely ebb and flow
Nomadic – their numbers grow
They deride
Predictability of each turning tide.

Submitted by Anna MacDonald