Ah the stormy seashore
In June
In the South
!
And the songs of the critters
In the marsh
Their eyes that do glow
In the infra-red
!
The sound of old bottles and frail sea-shells
Crackling underfoot
Whiles I re-explore these
Moist and moss-hung
Spots
Damn!
It brings to mind many a memory
Many a dirty memory
No comments:
Post a Comment