Owain Glyn Poems
I am sat on a bench, on the seafront, alone,
Just me, and the sea, and the old weathered stone.
Of course, there are tourists, who wander on by,
And silver winged gulls, as they dissect the sky.
There are fishing boats, plying their trade in the bay,
Whilst pleasure craft hoist up their sails for the day.
I can see the face painters and bead makers too,
As I watch pale-faced addicts who head for the loo.
A solitary policeman, whose aspect is stern,
As he dreams of promotion and what he might earn.
A parking attendant comes slithering by,
I think I do,
But then I don't
I think I will,
But then I won't
I think I might,
But then might not
I feel I should,
But have I got
The time and space