SEALS ON THE BEACH AT WINTERTON

There they were upon the sand,

not quite sea and not quite land.

A semi circle on the shore,
at least a hundred if not more.

Great furry fish,
streatching,
relaxing,
yawning and
scratching.

Sometimes singing a haunting song,
that ecoed the waves
of days long gone.

A salty smell upon the swell.
As they lay to pass the day.

Each and every single one,
a pebble dash hulk in the sun.

As we crept across the beach,
for they were within easy reach.

Some lumbered to the water,
where with fluid bodies,
in a liquid home,
either in groups or alone.
They stopped to stare,
dogs heads bobbing.
Or chased and played
were rollers sprayed.

so with fullfilled face,
we left that place.

For we were glad,
to see the sea.