On Folkestone Sands
I can connect
Nothing with nothing
I thought of this poem
When sitting on the lowest step
Of a multi coloured sun terrace
The tall Hawksmoor was to my right
Handsome and erect
A lighthouse without a light
People passing people chatting
Cyclists cycling walkers walking
Seagulls screeching history weeping
The beach was endless towards the sea
As the low evening light ruptured the day
I was in a panic a panic of total happiness
This was my day my day my beautiful day
All my days in Folkestone are rather beautiful
I wish for nothing else my friend but the for ease of eternity