Promenading on a Sunday
Along Brighton beach so fine.
Breakers sculpting well worn pebbles
Sparkling in the soapy brine.
Dogs sniff avidly as children scamper.
Sea bound surfers catch a wave.
One's upended, surfboard bobbing,
As a seagull laughs away.
Barbequing London families
Cook behind protective groynes.
Whilst a loving, cuddling couple
Feast on fish and chips with wine.
Ice cream cornets, pints of beer
Are consumed bereft of strife,
As the sun sets in the Channel
Silhouetting Brighton life.
Promenading on a Sunday,
Passing beach huts rainbow fed
But five o'clock is fast approaching
When tired children dream of bed.
The beach is suddenly quite empty.
Walkers few, yes far between.
Brighton promenade is resting
House curtains close on this day's scene.
The images in this poem are spot on! ! ! The seagulls laughing- - -a perfect word choice. Pebbles, soapy brine, dogs, children, surfboards, picnics... I am placed there on Brighton's beach, promenading with the best of them. I would love to see more poems written recently by you. [That's a hint, subtle, ain't i? ] Well done, very well done.
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Thank you Susan. Your words are most complimentary. Brighton Prom is indeed a stimulating walk. Keep tuned.