Time and Tide

 This poem was one of two written for our monthly church poetry group at St Michael's. The theme was 'time'. This one is a bit less bleak than the other!


Time and Tide


The old boys sit on the bench by the sea,

smoke fags and shoot the breeze.

The north wind blows salt from the surf in their eyes 

and ash falls unnoticed on their knees.


They talk of the times and the girls they had.

They eat chips and mushy peas.

They talk of more recent heart pains and aches,

of strokes and lung disease. 


The old boys shuffle their shoes in the sand

then stand with aged ill-ease.

They nod, and turn and wander off.

Time, gentlemen, please.

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