The Seals in Ceibwr Bay

We’re heading down to Ceibwr Bay, an early start & the tides are fine,
I’ve paints & picnic on my back & Molly always by my side.
She leads the way from the valley top as I plod down with halting steps,
picking my way beside the brook – but Molly’s raced off up ahead.

The lofty rooks on conference call are flapping with the day’s events,
while daintier birds drink in the spray. Ah – there’s Molly splashing after them
snapping and chasing out of view. I follow with my eyes & see -
there’s sand beneath the rippling flow, a sign we’re level with the beach.

I pause as the arching sloe-hedge frames the old stone bridge across the stream.
It’s breathtaking - but a sudden bark: yes, grey as its sun-bed slab – a seal.

Molly! Come-bye!