David Chadwick

A poem for the month - February

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Perfection

 

It was not what you’d call a perfect day

The breeze blew strongly at Governor’s Bay

It whipped up the water and what is more

It was slightly cold, so we stayed on the shore

As they waded out and stood side by side

Braced against the flow of the incoming tide

And the noise of the wind and the waves as they broke

Meant that we couldn't hear the words when they spoke

But back on the beach, I thought, on reflection,

You couldn’t ask for more than this day of perfection