If, like us, you've been drawn to the coast these past few weeks, by the clement weather and the - let's be honest - return to school of the noisier of the masses, then Gwynedd jewel Aberdyfi may well have been on your list of places to visit.

So what better than to give this month's spotlight over to one who makes a habit of doing just that. (Visiting Aberdyfi, that is, not returning noisily to school.)

"For the past 12 summers, my husband and I have stayed in Aberdyfi for two weeks, in an apartment opposite the yacht club and RNLI," says reader Faith Ford, who recently retired from her role at a local sixth form college in Hereford.

"The stunning views from the apartment are of the estuary beach, dunes and sea, across to Ynyslas and, also, of the estuary and inland hills," Faith waxes. "I write poetry and reflections about the landscape and seascape, some of which are just descriptive, but some are also Christian meditations or spiritual reflections."

Faith has had several poems published, including another about the beach colours of Aberdyfi which features in Poems From Snowdonia, a celebration of the spirit of place, published by Seren Books (click here for more details).

Far from putting her feet up in retirement, Faith is currently collating an anthology of her poetry and meditations. For more about her work, visit www.halfcentury.net

POET OF THE MONTH:
FAITH FORD

NEW DAY IN ABERDYFI

There is a quietness

about the start of the new day here in Aberdyfi.

The sky is blue with light clouds that are unmoving

in the windless air.

The estuary water is a patchy, royal blue at low tide,

and ever restlessly moving towards the sea.

The sand bar across the estuary mouth

is just about exposed -

and a line of white gulls are resting there.

Under the morning sun

the sands are of the richest colours I have seen;

gone are the white and pale biscuit tones,

and now almost khaki.

Dogs and walkers own the beach.

Cardigan Bay is a shade more turquoise

with a mere hint of white breakers

on the beaches at Ynyslas.

There is a clear demarcation of the sea and sky

on the distant horizon, straight,

as if drawn with a ruler.

The brightly painted hulls of the little boats

are colourful and shiny like billiard balls,

bobbing on the estuary.

And seagulls, stark against the blue sky,

start their flying

and their shrieking and squealing

to waken the new morning into life.

Have you got a poem you'd like to share with readers on our Creative Corner pages? Send it to newsletter@borderpublishing.com and include a bit of background about yourself, what inspires you, etc.