Angele Toomey Poetry

The second exercise at the New Zealand Authors Society Roadshow was a bit more difficult.

With a partner, we had to describe a place while the other person drew it. The ability of your partner to replicate the place relied on the description of its features as well as your emotions in relation to it. The richer the description, the richer the image.

My partner provided a rich description of a favourite family holiday spot when she was a child. The black sand beach, on a remote part of the Taranaki coast, is where picnics were had and sandcastles made. Below is the poem her description inspired. It is from the imagined perspective of a young adult, about to leave childhood behind who is perhaps visiting the beach for the last time. It’s probably called Moving on.

Sitting on hot iron sands

Casting my eyes across the waves

Dreaming of distant lands

And decisions already made.

My toes dig into the base of a sand castle

As their old conversations take place.

Staying is too hard, not worth the hassle

Every time I have to see her face.

Sitting on hot iron sands

Casting eyes across the waves

Fidgeting with sweaty hands

Regretting moves I never made.