Between the Stones by Caroline Fraser

The flowers speak for themselves.

Some shout loudly.

‘Look at me!’

‘Am I not splendid?’

Teasels and Bugloss,

Mustard and Mallow;

never backward in coming forward.

Across the watery expanse

tall stems and grasses whisper

in the brisk afternoon breeze.

‘Shhhhh….’ they say.

‘Don’t tell….

There are secrets between the stones.

Don’t be distracted by the Skylark

that rises silently,

lifting high into the summer sky to sing its exquisite melody.

Don’t stick to the path;

the beach to reach,

the dog to walk,

a circuit to complete.

Take your time.

Saunter slowly.

Wander, and wonder

at the quiet plants,

small and shapely,

marooned between archipelagos of Sea Kale;

its delicate blooms diamond white,

as if lights on a distant shore at night.

Tread lightly through the nodding heads of Sea Spurge,

its succulent whorls of sea glass

on ruby tinged stems

emerging singly from the shingle.

Look out for the lizard limbs

of Biting Stonecrop,

crawling between your toes.

Edging seawards through cracks and crevices,

until exploding into golden doubloons.’

The flowers speak for themselves.

Some are barely audible.

Listen carefully,

for there are secrets between the stones.