Mouth Of The Aeron

She sits there, nestled cheek by jowl,

with one foot in the sea,

and the other in the bright country.

Once a busy sea-port, there

is nought to show it now,

but a fading memory. And how

it saddens that a place like this

should sit there, in a book,

barely warranting a look.

Now tourists ebb and flow

across the busy street,

where sailors used to meet,

and the honey ice-cream shop –

such a favourite place to go –

is beside the river’s flow.

This place is truly welcoming,

a place with civic pride,

and doors held open wide.

 

 

 

 

Written 27/05/2005. Published in Poetry.com, 2013.

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