Today’spoem

I must go down to the sea again, To the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a clean sea Where the seagulls wheel and cry. Where the breaking foam is white, Not black or brown or fawn, A frothing nightmare sludge Where organisms spawn. Can I have my childhood beach With the driftwood from afar? Plump seaweed squeaky clean Not plastic smeared with tar. I want those shining sands Where my children jumped and ran, Not an oil-slicked sad morass, Dead fish and rusty can. I must go down to the sea again, To the tortured sea and the sky, The only problem is I shall probably sit and cry. P. Burgess, Gillingham, Kent.

...andLimerick

A fine spell of weather brought about A severe and protracted drought. Said a thoughtful young duck Contemplating his luck: ‘Fine weather for humans, no doubt!’ Doug Bissell, Dundee.