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A London Excursion to the British Seaside

July 09 2012, 22:07

A Poetic Review
By Greta Bellamacina (photos by Jacob Perlmutter)

Situated to the south west of London, an elegant blend of old England is merged along the sand-lit town of Bournemouth. A town draped in white laced cliffs. A mere two hours from the chaos of London, sits a simple romance. Almost in dust form an array of fishermen coat the pier, as the inhaling ocean fills the gaps in the sand. Cycling in twos, an off-beat magic retires along the costal roads. Pastel washed beach huts tease the eye, in a laidback row of colour. All this, when sheltering from the unpredictable weather known as the British rain. The old Print Room Teahouse, inspiring a nostalgic mix of the old music hall tradition. It beckons a taste of all things sweet and theatrical, yet understated and timeless. The tea and scones procuring warm hands to heart. Dressed in Twenty8twelve sundresses and knit, captures a postcard framing the British seaside.

Milk-Stoned Shore
This sawdust corner
Lyrical and sundry, pristine orange.
Is but a slide of the
Effect that the night felt.
She fell for a man,
Who filled her with sand.
Dressing her in a lemon skinned
Dress, casting currents
Alone on the beach side.
Repaired in the milk stoned
Shore. Free swinging sand sun
Caught in their shoes.
Hitching her hem, in to a
Sea flowering, water occurred, settling.
Cascades of outpouring silver.
Shelled and fanning,
An outlook for a beach hut.
Became a passing sigh.