Poetry by Jeff Green


A warm September Seaside

by cricketjeff on September 20, 2009.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

There is sand as soft as kisses
  And the waves are ankle high
But the Sun aims down and misses
  Through the cloud bespeckled sky.
In a beach pool full of fishes
  Twenty toes are on the chase
And a seashell grants you wishes,
  If you hold it to your face.

There are Dads enjoying bowling
  To their sons who don’t get out.
While a plastic bag goes rolling
  And its owner starts to shout.
Black-backed gulls are hunting ice-cream,
  Watching kids of two or three.
There are scones served with some nice cream
  And a lovely cup of tea.

Fishing boats are now returning,
  At the turning of the tide,
From an afternoon of earning
  From the spoils the seas provide.
There’s a kite that isn’t flying,
  And another off the ground,
Though the breeze is hardly trying
  There are gusts that can be found.

In the playground children playing
  Man a pirate climbing frame;
They have lookouts up waylaying
  Those who won’t join in the game.
As I stand here idly thinking
  While the sea’s around my feet,
I can feel I’m slowly sinking
  Like a windblown treasure fleet.

It’s a warm September seaside,
  I’m becalmed on Sandbanks Beach.
There are dreams left on my lee side
  And contentment’s just in reach.

Author notes

Sandbanks Beach 20th September 2009