• Tony Frobisher

A Beach at Peace

A Beach at Peace

I stand on a beach.

The sun is high on a late summer’s afternoon.

The sky a cloudless, deep turquoise,

Mirrored by the undisturbed sea.

The gentle crash of waves soothing

Where they previously struck fear,

As they crashed against the side of our dinghy

In the dead of a frozen night,

Adrift, flotsam on the human tide,

Lost, but by God’s will, saved

And delivered to England’s shore.

The warmth has turned to a pleasant heat

My eyes close to the sounds of children

Running on the pebbles

The crunch of the stones underfoot

Mixing with their shouts of delight.

The heat takes me back

Saturday afternoons fishing by the small lake

Peaceful hours passing, endless.

The lake we played as boys, courted as teenagers and learnt the value of patience as men.

The one the regime bombed sending catfish soaring high

Landing in courtyards by the small houses

And rattling the roofs with a scattering of stones

Indistinguishable from the rat-tat-tat of the machine gun fire

When the militias came.

I smell the sea, and a waft of fish frying from the chip shops,

Carried on a cooling breeze.

They were right.

These days of sunshine and blue, rare but welcome

Remind me of home.

But the cloudy days of gun battle grey and rain bombardment

Are equally welcome,

Because the bombs have stopped

And life has begun again.

The nightmares will never cease

But while I am stood on an English beach

Looking back to where I came from

I have found peace

Which is all we ever asked for

#refugees #immigration #home #belonging #place #welcome #people #life #society #peace

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