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