Looking down to Foreland Point / by Michael Elwick

By | March 28, 2021
Hear this page!

Looking down to Foreland Point

I am reminded of times past

Conger eels the size of a man

Caught in the wreck off the coast there.


Lobsters and mackerel fresh from the sea

The mackerel caught on the tide line

Cooked, fried in butter for breakfast,

Their colour still on them


Lobster salad for lunch

The lobster caught in the bay, or down the coast

By Lobster Paul who lives now on a boat

In the harbour at the weir


Old Tom in the corner with his bottomless tankard of Guinness

Shove ha’penny in the bar

The Post Office van that went to Culbone

before the path fell into the sea


A’a’a’Arthur with his stammer

His love of the red deer

They’re be’be’belling up the combe

We go searching in the car


Jack a lamb under each arm

On his pony that he broke when he was 76

In the bar, Jack and Fred drink Bass for lunch

The pony tied under the archway waits to take Jack home


Now nature is overtaking us

The paths and the hedge grow wild

Fallow deer run along the track no longer used

Banks go untrimmed, untouched, untamed

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