Quiet North-Easterly
Whips genteel waves
I remove my shoes
Sand brack-scours my feet
Young lovers depart for canoodling
Or whatever it is they do
I have the water to myself
On Monday I was sick
Tuesday part cured
Today part sick
Tomorrow well I hope
After my water cure
Junior beach engineers
Dig out a stay of execution
From a proud father
Dreaming of a seaside pint
Their excavation diverts
Attention from the still
Smouldering barbecue of
An entented couple
Bare feet protruding
Shadow cast through water
I have the sea to myself
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