A DAY AT THE SEA

So calm the gentle lapping early morning sea

Green-tipped cliffs are mirrored perfectly

The misty rising sun sends forth a twinkling ribbon

A Cormorant wing-tipping its own reflection

Into the picture the first of the daily human intrusion

With a thrill like an explorer discovering a new land

My footsteps scar the rippled virgin sands

But not for long my footsteps lie intact

For next comes old Rosie with her driftwood sack

And then five boys an eager crab-hunting lot

Scramble red-kneed amongst the rocks

Next the timeworn regimental major

His fight for life the only war he has left to wager

For fifteen years he’s never missed a day, he’s eighty five

Stiff-lipped he breaks the water, a wonder he is still alive!

Then gradually the swarm begins, straggling bunches

Weighed down with bulging bags of picnic lunches

Carry-cots, dinghies, radios and chairs

All race to claim the nearest spot of sand as theirs

Soon there is hardly room to tread

And still more towels are being spread

The sandy melting sandwiches are crunched

The tea is poured and apples munched