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