Posted by Admin on 15 May 2006, 12:00 am
Above Ytene the setting sun
has envermeiled the sky:
from windows in The Terrace
its reflections fade and die.
Above the trees seen from the pier
are rooks still on the wing,
and in the pier’s pavilion
the Maids and Middies sing.
The warning sound of surplus steam
some laggard trippers hear
and hasten to the Bournemouth Queen
that waits her lines to clear.
A man equipped with rod and line
his vigil there begins,
contemplative as any monk
reviewing his past sins.
Two lifeboats in their davits rest,
unused since their inception,
and who will man their oars with zest
remains an open question.
From the Parade a stray balloon
straight upward goes in flight,
as if to greet the rising moon
and bask in lunar light.
At ten pm the concert ends,
deserted stands the esplanade
where transcendental peace descends
as twilight yields to obfusc shade.
T. C. Hudson
© T. C. Hudson.
Village
Parish Council