As the rain and the sea beat
we licked our dripping ice creams
defying bold seagulls and shear wind

On the wet slick cobbled street
our gloved hands gripped warped rails
voices drowned out by laughter and hale

Over the swaying footbridge
the fog piercing light of a homely pub’s
waiting fire, curried mash and warm ale

Squealing with joy into a stitch
we cracked quips and drank our games
through schmaltzy eyes and gentle care

Tuning radio through the static
we cursed the heating of our rusty clapper
a noisy mist in the headlights trapped

Overgrown weeds in the attic
the moss trampled by chariot’s wheels
conked southern boy sipped Yorkshire tea