Wells,  in My View

Wells in summertime means endless queuing in shops,

quayside strewn with fish and chip papers.

Tourists in designer shorts, with matching flip-flops;

local males gaze on, entranced by their seductive capers!

In winter the place tells a different story;

on the storm-tossed beach there's not one bare leg in sight.

The North Wind comes in his elemental glory,

and Wells regains composure as the visitors take flight.

copyright Christine Rayner 1999