<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
There is Nothing to Me But Sea<\/strong><\/p>\n O for a paddle in a piddle of the sea, Ah for the spittle of the dregs of the sea, I’m famished for foam \u2013 I long for ablution where starfish stroke my knee But I’d settle for a dawdle in a dribble of the sea I am frantic for fish \u2013 I’m agoggle for a toddle in a coddle of the sea, Send a message in a bottle for the bubble of the sea \u2013 I’m furling for luffs Awash with wave and water, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n David Seddon<\/strong>: I didn’t start writing poetry because it was therapeutic, but it wasn’t long before I realised that it was. In my counselling practise, people usually come to me in great pain. I help them to work through that but also, just as importantly, to begin to reach out again to good things \u2013 even contentment and joy. Poetry is one of three therapeutic Ps for me \u2013 the others being philosophy and photography. They help me to feel and think through painful things and find what makes me come alive. They are journeys from solitude to connection, with each step a relief.<\/p>\n
\na heart-curled drool of cool salinity.<\/p>\n
\na fontful immersion in an estuary.<\/p>\n
\nfathom and floe
\nfluvial firths
\nfleeting fixes of salt.
\nI am feeble
\nO feed me with froth!<\/p>\n
\nand crabs pinch my soul in the cradle of the sea.<\/p>\n
\na toestrung oodle of a revel in the sea.<\/p>\n
\nfor Frill Mouth Sole
\nFusco Drum
\nFourstripe Grunt and Forssk.
\nI flounder
\nO feed me a fin!<\/p>\n
\nBut I poke in a puddle like a carcass at the quay;<\/p>\n
\na quick skedaddle of a sidle in the sea.<\/p>\n
\nfor feluccas and fluyts
\nfustas and foists
\nfo’c’sle futtocks and gaffs
\nI am flagging
\nO feed me a fleet!<\/p>\n
\nthere is nothing to me but sea.
\nIn eel-deep sleep
\nI sweep the sky for sail;
\non brineless spineless land,
\nI simmer for blue.<\/p>\n