tenby evening after a storm
now is that a storm moon
far away above the restless harbour
is it beguiled by the colours
seduced by the moods of
the houses riding the palette
of the town sloped away
far above the rash of buoys
red upon the dark sea’s weaving
between the mooring’s chink
the sands pull high and dry
the rain squalls beached the
town lights laughing goodnight
my sons and daughters
the moods are about the place
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