A Morning Stroll

Fresh sun warm on shadowed skin

Giant seagulls by the Chish ‘N’ Fips

Peaceful mewing in blissful desire,

A boatyard waiting for its destiny

By the oldest yacht club in the world,

—The singing postman sleeps —

Grand houses stand tall to the tune

Of winter’s past and spring’s beginnings,

The Merries silent, the park lonely

For times looming and smiles waiting,

One man walks along the jetty

— Boats idle on a still sea —

Eleven gulls take flight across the water

Towards the yellow doored house…

Blossom Cottage with its post box

Speaks of summer holidays and sandy-wiches,

This world is anchored to a pandemic tune

— But not for long — the seagulls mew!

© — Carol Phelan Aebby —