<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Tea-time in Sand Bay<\/strong><\/p>\n The bare beach rolls away <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Miki Byrne<\/strong> has three poetry collections and work included in over 170 poetry magazines and anthologies. She runs a poetry writing group and began performing in a bikers club in Birmingham. Miki is disabled and lives in Gloucestershire.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Tea-time in Sand Bay The bare beach rolls away windswept, smooth, as much space as can fill two eyes, and the desire to feel the wind. Mercury-bright channels gouge snaking paths to the sea that sucks them into its vastness. A shaggy line of weed, like bed-head hair edges toffee-coloured sand. Chill takes […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13716","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13716","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13716"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13716\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14093,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13716\/revisions\/14093"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13716"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13716"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13716"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nwindswept, smooth,
\nas much space as can fill two eyes,
\nand the desire to feel the wind.
\nMercury-bright channels
\ngouge snaking paths to the sea
\nthat sucks them into its vastness.
\nA shaggy line of weed,
\nlike bed-head hair
\nedges toffee-coloured sand.
\nChill takes small bites
\nfrom ears and noses
\nas if invisible spirits live on the breeze
\nand zoom in for snacks.
\nOn the shore road,
\na bright flag snaps whip-like,
\ncracks the air gunshot sharp.
\nThe tea shop huddles, solitary,
\nwindows sparking a flash of colour
\namidst closed grey houses
\nwhere residents stay warm
\nand puzzle over out-of-season loonies
\nwho risk hypothermia on the tideline.
\nThe cafe offers haven; warm, quaint,
\nfragrant with cooking.
\nWe settle at table, peel scarves away,
\npet the dog to lie quietly.
\nTea mugs are bliss for those
\nwho braved the outdoors.
\nLike a head banged against a wall,
\nit\u2019s great when it stops.<\/p>\n