Margate and Folkestone are not that far apart
One is elegant and the other is what it is
They both speak to me as most towns do
I am sitting stiff
On Margate Sands
Reading poetry
Not my poetry far from it as it comes from another book
Folkestone Training College 1947-1950
It is time capsule of things past and things lost
One poem which I will reproduce interests me
I will share it in a few lines time
Do I have a good knowledge of my location
Possibly not
Another poet as forgotten as I am
Wrote a poem
I will read it now
This man has planted tranquil stones
With lucid flowers ;
Firmly set down sweet life in stones
Through laboured hours
Whence came the seed of these flowers ?
The darling seed ?
What breath informed these stony flowers
That he has freed ?
What power could generate the seed
Such blossoms attest ?
What love or like as he indeed
Made manifest ?
These patient stones may answer best :
Shall surely prove
Most eloquent ; with being blest
And filled with love .
I have no real opinions about this poem
Which seems old fashioned against modern tastes
But I like it I feel the poets words
I tend to read poetry but not judge it
Who am I to judge the words of others
That would just be arrogant
The sun has faded under the shower clouds
And the wind which was once cool is now cold
I am thinking of my four girls at Dreamland
It is a recreation that does not interest me
Reading poetry on a chilly beach how foolish he is
But I am missed as I am always missed
They await my safe return
And look across the bleak sands
Where the shadows
Of the afternoon
Once roamed
A familiar stranger approaches them
In the late air magnificent