The Cannon Rock - Tony Gardner

The gorse is gold as Guernsey butter
Linnets flitting through the thorn.
Thick the scent of elderflower
On the cliffs this summer morn.

Through the warm, blue skies the swallows
Twist and glide in skilful sport
Down below, our destination,
The Cannon Rock at Petit Port.

As we scramble down the cliffside
With our tackle, rods and bait
Ostensively it's fish we're after
But just the solitude is great.

Now the climbing sun grows stronger
Sparkling on the placid waves
As we bask in peaceful pleasure
I know this is all I crave

Sitting on the weathered granite
The lapping waves a foot away
Catching one or two small "rockies"
Which we return to swim away

When I'm old and stiff and creaky
When I can climb the cliffs no more
Still will glow within my memory
The Cannon Rock at Petit Port.

Tony Gardner