Bricks • Mortar • Imagination • Words

The Texts

De La Warr Pavilion, Bexhill-on-Sea

I do not know which to prefer

the light windy blue of morning

or the white-out of sea mist,


the inflection of shadow at dusk

or the spill of light from the pavilion windows

blurring the dark of the vacant shore.


Sea becomes tin, iron,

a bale of lilac silk ruffled

by afternoon wind


as weather mutates, shifts like a mood,

ectoplasmic fog turning to wide

clear sky.


A film of rain, a white gull,

a wet dog; everything

flux and shift


a formation and refiguring

between sea, sky

and deck-chaired strand


where light is hazy,

chromatic, mutable

here on the edge of this watery world.

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Arts Council England
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