POEM OF THE DAY

Just like a brooding artist’s pallet, The sky was filled with moody shade.

Nye fifty shades, from black to grey,

Would all merge and overlay. And the sand danced just like fairies,

In the freshing summer breeze. Just like a swirling whirling dervish,

Wind whipped where it pleased. Through gloom a cloud made room,

The merest hint, a glint at first. Then what a sight to great delight,

The sun’s gold rays did burst

Time stood still then, as it does when,

Gay peacocks show their plumes. It’s so marvellous being an Englishman

By the seaside in mid June.