6 OCTOBER 1944, Page 9

THE SEA

THE sea

Is schizophrenic Such a thing two-faced!

Sometimes when days are hot and skies are hazy It flops and wallows up the sand Seal like and lazy, Full of oil and fish, Solemn as you could wish.

Yet marble laced, White vein traced

And 41.

Collared with a sheen Of blue and green.

With gentle rushes, It flaps the pebbles like a peasant washing (Squatting in the heat Down where the iris meet The river rushes.

Solid women with their linen Coshing!) And then again The sea (When driven clouds go racing by for cover And skies are purple as a bruise Left by a lover) Rushes the shore Jike a stampede of cattle, Square-chested steer advancing into battle Again and again, White flecked with foam and whipping streaming mane Each with a sweat-streaked hide Salty and strange legged rider astride, Dripping with weedy hair Urging and laughing there Wild eyed!

HAZEL WATSON.