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See Life, Sea Life by Justine W, Ripley St Thomas

When I visit the countryside, I love the dark skies,
No light pollution and can see all the stars
If you follow them the lead you to Morecambe Town,
Which I love also, and has lights of its own
Many bright lights, neon colours, flashing,
The stars disappear, all but a few and my eyes a draw downwards
Mind my footing on the ground
In one shop, then another, scanning the pavements to continue forwards
The Bay air is salty and smells of wet stones
People are everywhere, cars driving home
Bus stops as frequent as streetlights, street life, pedestrian chaos
The sea, the Sea Life metres away, secretly busy a life of its own
I’ll travel by train to Lancaster City, drenched in history, a thousand year pretty
I can shop ‘till I drop, meet friends, go for lunch and watch people
Doing the same without pause, pedestrian chaos
The medieval Castle, The Cathedral, the HUGE river
River Lune fuelled by the Sea power, from cumbria to Lancashire
Did I see the river today or the sea or the stars?
No not really though I journeyed as far
But The Sea saw me, and let me breath, let me eat, let me shop, kept me warm
I’ll see the sea next time, its coming to town,
Morecambe town, The Eden Project, bringing a Sea Life centre
Sea Life above ground, more people, long journeys, no stars
To See The Sea Life, via trams, trains and cars.

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Oceans and Beaches by Amelia L, Year 9 Ripley St Thomas

Oceans and beaches,
Places we love to go.
Once used to be home to many,
But that number has now reduced to be so low.
Once used to be lively and clean,
Now not as much can be seen.
Plastic pollutes the ocean,
And covers the sand.
What has happened to this wonderful creation?
Was it made just so fish could get stuck in tin cans?
Once the animals and organisms thrived,
But now many of them have died.
Though there is still some hope.
Reduce your waste,
Reuse what you can.
And protect the animals,
From the old way of man.

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The Anthropocene’s Picnic – Pier Head, Liverpool by Debra Williams

If you go down to the waves today
For peace and quiet, a mindful
Meditative moment,
You’re sure of a big surprise
Because the Anthropocene’s in town.
“Roll up! Roll up!”
Get your synthetic ice-creams
From the diesel-belching vans
Lined up on the harsh concrete –
The heat island effect is strong here –
Dodge the darkly speckled
Dirty-looking juvenile gulls
Bin-dipping in the junk food
Effluence around the benches and steps –
The tin cans and plastic bottles
The takeaway cartons and cups
The cigarette butts and wet wipes –
And feel ashamed.
If you go down to the waves today
You’d better go alone
Because the things you want to say – shout – scream
Are better off unvoiced –
So maybe it’s safer to stay at home.

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Morecambe on a winter’s day by Rose J, Year 7 LGGS

A dog runs on the forsaken beach,
The sea is distant, out of reach,
The sea and sky meet in a symphony of grey,
This is Morecambe on a winter’s day.

Looking back towards the town,
Chip shop litter, strewn around,
A chip become a seagull’s prey,
This is Morecambe on a winter’s day,

The setting sun casts a fiery glow,
On the bare beds where spring flowers will grow,
And an empty playground where no children play,

This is Morecambe on a winter’s day.

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My Environment Poem by Millie O’C, Year 8 LGGS

The depths of the sea,
Animals and sea life swim free.
Although beautiful, vast and blue,
The innocent creatures are dying because of you.
The ocean is full of plastic,
Things like bottles and elastic.
Easy enough to find its way into a creature’s mouth,
All animals, even in the south.
Are dying this tragic way,
Almost every single day.
Our amazing sea,
Where people come and leave.
We swim in its lovely waters,
With our fathers, mothers, sons and daughters.
We have cared for the ocean many times,
Now its time for us to stop polluting the water as it seems as if it was a crime.

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In an Intemperate Climate Rocks become Light by Catherine Marina

A child bites my hand, wrapping it over his
and catching his feet on unstable sand.

Looking back smoke rises from the shore.
Open fires and cigarettes divide the beach.

With ogre energy, laughing and cackling
the child throws a rock, splitting it in two

current breaking and reforming through it.
Inclement layers exposed to oxygen and salts.

His screams disturb the grown-ups on the shore
looking up from their personal spaces

places marked out by expensive kayaks
and bodies of wetsuits prostrate and idle.

His rolled up tracksuit bottoms are starting
to get wet and he hasn’t noticed the samphire

wrapping around his toes. Salt fingers
binding him in the water until he feels

and screams and giggles and razes his hands
God like against the incoming tide

that threatens to wash everything away
and asks to go home. Relieved, the adults

on the shore relax back behind their wind breaks.
Watch us tip toe over unexploded shells.

Exhale cigarette smoke. Lick the salt off their lips.
Resume their positions.

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Risk assessment by Kelly Davis

Walking along the Prom
I make a judgement about the waves.
Are they licking the edge of the path
or swallowing it whole?

Will my dog and I be safe
beside this body of water
that is sometimes calm and still,
sometimes shuddering, convulsing?

Next to the path, signs of past storms:
concrete blocks pulverised into fragments
bits of metal and plastic
vomited onto the shore.

Above me, the steep slope
has become a cliff,
chunks of earth
bitten out.

We used to build sandcastles on holiday –
make the walls higher, the moats deeper,
then watch, helpless,
as our castles vanished.

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In-between place by Kelly Davis

Strip of scrubby land
just beyond the golf course
with blackened, backcombed bushes.

Between the coast road and the sea,
bordered with chunks of broken concrete,
boulders, twisted bits of washed-up metal.

I walk my dog here
on the muddy track, following
his tail like a flag.

Place where gorse and brambles
cling to life, battered by
Western winds and Solway tides.

In ten years’ time
it will have gone.
I’m setting down a marker.

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Oystercatchers by Rowland Crowland

Oystercatchers,
Hard by the Bay,
Steadfast,
Braced against the rain,
Legs rigid,
Wings folded,
Fixed into the wind,
Bold,
Sea-cold,
Birds of the coastal plain.
I first saw them off Fegla Fawr,
Big red beaks like I’d never seen before.
I sat and watched them from afar.
Oystercatchers, Wow!
And now they’re here on Morecambe Bay,
Unmistakeable, standing that way,
A panoply of piebald,
All facing Ireland
Through the sea spray.
Look!
For flying in a straight line
There’s got to be no match,
There’s no time to deviate
When there’s oysters to catch.
I can see them from Marine Road,
It’s the place where oystercatchers go
For cockles and mussels by the tractor load.
I’ve never seen one catch an oyster though!
But there they go,
Stepping staccato,
Red stiletto
Legs with backward knees,
Rooting, tooting,
Shooting the breeze,
Pied pipers,
Whistling like referees.
Red-eyed, intent
On serious deeds.
You can keep your peregrines!
You can keep your golden eagles!
Here’s majesty enough for me
Standing proud amongst the seagulls!
Then suddenly,
And as one,
They’re gone!
Gone home to Iceland
Until the Autumn comes.

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Environment Poem by Chloe C, Year 9 LGGS

Looking down from the cliffs I’ve seen it all
Waves crashing, still sand and watched some rocks fall
To know that diversity is the principal of earth itself
But our world could just be a project on an aliens top shelf
We are so naïve to what surrounds us
Not to know what lurks in the depths of the waters that can drown us
But from what we have discovered new and old
We have been gifted what we need to live and more ten fold
But we take it for granted
We take and we don’t give back
Expecting the damages to heal so we don’t lose track
Of the one goal we strive towards
Money a small price of paper that has no real worth
Is more precious to most then our home and sole provider.
The Earth.

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The Hazardous Tsunami by Anne M, Year 7 LGGS

I am the terrible tsunami
The one that makes you cry
You do not know when I come
And faint when you realise

I am the one that haunts your dreams
The one that gives you nightmares
You tremble when I come
Hoping I will not sweep you away

You try to outrun me
But you never will
I am powerful and will sweep you elsewhere

I am as silent as a mouse
Very few will see me
They try to hide away
But some are just blind
And they are my prey

So, if you see the sea floor
Or see the water receding
You might want to run
Or I will gobble you all up!