Beaches in Winter short poem Benedict Brooke

I’m walking along the sea shore

And I hear waves, and gulls crying

And the voices of children

That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?

Except that I don’t mind the gulls and the seashore,

But I’ve never been keen on children

There’s a pub up the road,

And a little brief escape.

I like beaches in the winter

White, swollen surf and the sound of gulls crying

And hearts being broken and pretending to mend

And a pub up the road…