Quantock Rock

I am a Quantock rock, 
laying crazed beneath your feet.
The ages have smoothed my surface
Surging surf sweeping away pedestrian poundings.

See

my kin all around me 
Their superb stratification, twisted by time and tide, 
telling their own story of this great land.

Hear

muses meandering along these shores. 
like spies sent to shadow innocent poets 
suspected for their love of walking
‘Them’s not spies, ‘the landlord says, ‘them’s poets – 
They just walks, and writes’

Tell

no one but the wind, 
bringing blasts that scour my skin.

Feel

the cold waves that seep through my pores,
 joining streams soaking down from the land 
that fracture me when they freeze; 
and the scorching sun which bakes my bones 
and breaks me more, till time atones
I am a Quantock rock, laying crazed beneath your feet.