Pete and I have just returned from another fantastic trip to Hastings, where we attended the International Composers Festival. It was wonderful to share time with such creative people and to meet friends, old and new. Here is a poem I have written about the event.
Postcard from Hastings
I miss the sound of the sea,
crashing of chords,
rolling waves.
We are land locked
and lovelorn.
I miss the sound of gulls,
voices soar
gliding on wings.
We are land locked
and lovelorn.
I miss the sound of pebbles,
grasping at harp strings,
surf rolling.
We are land locked
and lovelorn.
I miss the sound of the sea,
mist swirling,
haunted horns sounding.
We are land locked
and lovelorn.
I miss the sound of the sea,
bells ringing,
pages turning.
We are land locked
and lovelorn.