Poetry Corner: The Low Season
VERNON KEITH FOWLER
The tourists have gone but the sea is still here.
At the Goat Ledge Café you can still find some cheer:
A cup of hot choc with whipped cream and marshmallows
Will save any soul from the doldrums and shallows.
The gulls are still here, and the rain is sporadic
So in between showers you can still be nomadic.
It’s a wonderful season – you don’t have to queue
For the bar or the café, or even the loo.
Even the day-trippers no longer come
On weekends when homelife is making them glum.
They no longer throng the amusement arcades
Where a hush has now fallen and silence pervades.
The golf that was crazy has now become tame
As just a few locals indulge in the game.
The miniature train and the funfair as well
Have likewise succumbed to the off-season spell.
A few German students are still to be seen
In huddles and gaggles invading the scene,
But these are the tail-end and soon we’ll be sayin’
‘Guten Tag meine Kinder’ and ‘auf Wiedersehen.’
But when they’re all gone, let me make it quite clear:
The sea and the seagulls, and WE, are still here!
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