• Clare Shearman

Revisiting The Cliffs

We were delighted to receive this poem from Pat Walsh having attended our open day back in February. Thanks so much Pat. Some things have stayed the same - others are most definitely different!




Revisiting The Cliffs at Shoreham

By Pat Walsh


Lots had changed.


Men grey with age

sat and gazed where young men

once ran and played.

Bunk-bed bush huts

were now comfy windowed cabins

with double beds

that looked on while Teresa of Avila

was quoted to the crowd.

Steps cut in the cliff

to quicken Salmon runs

down to the waiting sea

had gone, too dangerous now.

The entrance sign proudly

chiselled in varnished pine

had rotted off its hooks.

And all that was left

of the ant-bed tennis court

was the centre line that

told in from mainly out.


But still the swimming pool sea

sings in chorus with the trees.

Honeysuckle Beach is mulled

by the sun’s ardour.

Prayers rise like bubbles of air

exhaled from deep below.

Ants dig where grasshoppers

played ball in the sun.

And the reading of books,

then a measure of manhood,

again held our devotion

backs turned to the ocean.



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