Tuesday, 16 May 2017


Mousehole Harbour…

Yuletide Mousehole, festooned with a plethora 
Of lights and shapes and a myriad colours
Glinting in a high harbour tide,
Welcomes and accommodates
Like a theatrical stage:
Luscious and vibrant,
Becalming yet exciting;
Precious and iridescent,
Practical yet magical
But unashamedly partisan…

January Mousehole, stripped to a pallor
Of creams and lines and stark hues
Haunting on a high quay tide,
Shrivels and withers
Like a bygone age:
Anxious and distant,
Daunting yet compelling;
Cautious and discordant,
Nautical yet logical
But undeniably spartan…

Pete Ray
15th May 2017

Looking at Julie Adlard’s ‘Mousehole Harbour’, I couldn’t help thinking about my mother, who took down all of the Christmas trimmings as soon as my father returned to work after New Year’s Eve and suddenly, from a bright, decorative lounge and hallway, the house took on a stark and stripped nature…

Mousehole always reverts to Julie Adlard’s pretty depiction soon after its world famous lights and festivities have ended, hence the above poem...

Both scenes are totally amazing however…  

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