Alongside the sea’s
White sandy shore
Stands up infront
Against the wind
The layered soft
And weather clay
That runs
In winter’s rain
As red as our
Countries heart

Deep lines
Are laid
In it’s high face
That looks
Like old skin does
With patches through
Of colour’s line

Onto the
Bleached white
Glaring sand
Small drying
Red clay mounds
Is all that’s left
Of winter now
And rain’s
Relentless wear
Again in stark
Clear shinning light
The edges stand