WRITINGS...
We have received several requests from readers to include poetry, stories and observations by local people and visitors. We invite contributions from the public and kick the venture off with a 30 year old poem from your Editor.
SUMMER STORM, SANDY POINT
Humid sighs through limpid veils,
Heat-haze ripples, liquid mirrors;
Pools of sky and shimmering cloud
Refract the earth in torrid shivers.
In the distance, intimations;
Storm clouds boiling black and grey
With thunder rolling out the barrens,
Clothe with hues of night the day.
Wind-gusts sweeping through the village;
Palms wave arms in sudden sheer.
Then the rain, great thunderdrops
Bursting from the atmosphere.
Miasmal steam, rich humus scents,
Then the singing of a bird;
From the rush-edged saw-grass pond
The chorused croak of frogs is heard.
Evening falls, the first husk fires
Thicken on the dampened breeze;
Propitiating incense hangs
Obscuring stars between the trees.
Darkness drops in sombre shrouds,
The moon slides slowly through the sky;
And after all, a still small voice
Speaks comfort, and the storm is by.
Jack Hardy.