It was high tide - choppy water lapped salt rimed stone - rain clouds filled the sky -
A gang of brawny oldsters joshed each other -
A silverback wearing magnificent brogues pointed to his chum -
We're the only two under seventy seven he roared -
Anne and I snarfed pork pies like LA cops in a steamy patrol car -
Soon we would walk around another day room, lined with chairs -
I would try to avoid the gazes of watery vacant eyes -
14.00
Monday 18 May 2015
The Ship Inn
Langstone
Hampshire
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