It's nearly summer and seaside holidays wouldn't be the same without... ouch!


Big Mac

Under a mackerel sky
Three bewitched gulls
Stir the sultry cauldron-air,
Three times they circle,
Three times they cackle,
Their fishy eyes foresee
An army of day trippers
Moving slowly down the prom,
Takeaways in hand,
Then out of hand,
A self-fulfilling prophecy.








Poetry by Christopher Fernie The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 256 times
Written on 2025-05-27 at 17:57

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I've seen it happen numerous times.
2025-05-27