It’s Poetry Friday and, if you’ve read my last few posts, you’ll know I’ve been thinking a lot about what poetry is – with some surprising results, including last week’s comparison of poetry to chicken cacciatore.
Yesterday, as I took my morning walk on ‘my’ beach (I do share it with other locals, but sometimes it really does feel like it is there just for meeeeee). I thought for perhaps the millionth time how very beautiful it is, in all it’s different faces. The line ‘My beach is a poem’ came to me and, at home, this is what came out:
My beach is a poem:
laying out her
glories each morning;
welcoming me
to her sand.
My beach is a poem:
her salty air
medicine
to soothe
my troubled mind.
My beach is a poem:
water like sparking jewels
spilling from
a sandy treasure chest.
My beach is a poem:
whispering waves
singing and crooning
their morning tune.
My beach is a poem.
(Sally Murphy, 2024)
As a first draft, I like it, and could see it being a useful mentor text, with each verse using a different poetic technique. and the repeated line ‘My ______ is a poem.’
Speaking of beaches, I am lucky enough to be heading off for the next week to visit the beautiful Rottnest Island (also known by its traditional name, Wadjemup) , for some snorkelling, some beach walking and, importantly some research and writing time. Feel sorry for me? You shouldn’t! I’d take you with me if I could.
Before I head off, I’m off to checkout the other Poetry Friday goodness. Margaret is hosting the weekly roundup.

the end of the month, I am putting lots of time into pondering how to spread the poetry word.




audited 134 research reports and articles from around the world, with key findings summarised
research (which you will find
Margaret couldn’t have known when she selected this card that my word for this year would be ‘Pause’, which is why I shivered when I read the verse inside the card: ‘Bring silence and stillness to this season of joy.’ A perfect reminder for me to pause.