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