Last week, I was talking to someone about how some poems come easy, and others take a while to work on and polish up, and I mentioned this poem to them at the time, so here it is.

This poem, Gull Gyre, was remarkably easy to write, although I did spend time thinking it through beforehand.

Driving to the garden centre one day, maybe a couple of weeks ago, I saw a load of gulls circling in the air, which made me think of them as a gyre.

As they span and wheeled, I could hear them calling, and began creating words that suited the chaos and the cacophony of the scene.

Once I had a few seeds of an idea, I was able to write this out really quite easily once I got home

In contrast, sometimes they don’t come so easy, and some poor poems even end up abandoned, poor souls – too difficult!

I hope you enjoy.

Gull Gyre

Seagulls gyre – wocker-challing and crocker-calling,

skiffer-wheeling, wind-kiting and hoarse-calling

keer-wails into a bluster-buffet, ear-sharked, eye-grit gale,

blowing smithereens out of the sea wall,

the surf and the pebbles that make up the beach,

grind-clockering and ratter-schacketling back and forth,

to and fro in weather’s storm-force mayhem.

In the air gulls cry caw once more,

twitching wings to soar, scud and chaos-wheel

in their noise-gyre – set against dim clouds

as sun sinks and steam rises from my mug,

creating window fog, warm and safe in my café by the sea.


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