Grey Sea Dog Sort Of Day

The Sea

The sea is a hungry dog,
Giant and grey.
He rolls on the beach all day.
With his clashing teeth and shaggy jaws
Hour upon hour he gnaws
The rumbling, tumbling stones,
And 'Bones, bones, bones, bones! '
The giant sea-dog moans,
Licking his greasy paws.

And when the night wind roars
And the moon rocks in the stormy cloud,
He bounds to his feet and snuffs and sniffs,
Shaking his wet sides over the cliffs,
And howls and hollows long and loud.

But on quiet days in May or June,
When even the grasses on the dune
Play no more their reedy tune,
With his head between his paws
He lies on the sandy shores,
So quiet, so quiet, he scarcely snores.

James Reeves

I went to the Dengie Hundred again today and drove down to St Lawrence Bay after I had left the care home. It was cold, grey, windy and raining. I thought of the poem, above, that my daughter recited for the Cambridge Festival Of Speech and Drama. We still call big, grey, shaggy dogs 'sea dogs'.