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Writer's pictureTony Frobisher

Weathered Beaches

Weathered Beaches


Hands buried in armpits,

Wrapped up in a

Fisherman's friend of

A thick woolly sweater.

A jumper on the beach,

An eager dog leaps

In excitement as a ball is

Tossed wave-ward for the

Umpteenth time that I've stood

And watched and listened to

The beach sounds, where

Waves bring memories and

The wind stirs recollections

In soft breeze breaths

And gales of laughter.

And the tides are full of

Current and past people and

Times shared and holidays

Under umbrellas, cloaked

In cagoules, soaked in spite

Of raincoats and grins and

Grimaces as the hardy fools

Stroll on the prom, heads down

Determined to enjoy themselves.

Faces painted in spittle and spray

And weathered cheeks red raw.

And the day becomes

More a battle against the

Elements, weather bowed but

Never beaten, a stoic ice cream

Cone in ten degrees, a 99 flake.

Bench sat, blanket wrapped

Chattering of teeth and knees.

Gloves and scarf, a delighted scream

And a laugh as the pennies fall in

Weatherproof amusement arcades and

The penny drops that the weather stops

Neither fun nor memories

Of bucket days and cold, clouded shade.

A summer of sun, sea and shivers,

The wave rhythms deliver without

Fail to summon childhoods

And loved ones and a pleasure

Beach full of every emotion.

Whatever the weather we'll be

Beach bounding, come July, August,

Dune days and rock pool playing

A happy tune, seasides beside ourselves

With pier grins and postcard smiles.

We'll return. We always do.




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