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day at chesil


i sat atop of chesil beach
where the grass grew rich
seagulls out of reach
the wind it blew and the sun it shone
oh twas so nice to hear bird song

the pebbles rich in size and form
the waves did crash and sailors mourned
the view was rich in salty spray
upon the ridge oer the bay

i walked the ground over heavy stone
flipped a skidder like kids did alone
we sailed our kites and sang those songs
that sailors chant and verse be long

the grockels came from london town
with punks and damsels in gay gowns
the sun was rich and view was sound
with cries of seagulls all around

high up oer wessex great terrain
where hardy strolled and barnes refrained
the hills were green and lofty high
with cotton wool clouds across the skies

in the distance i could hear
the sounds of laughter from too much beer
the holiday crowds with nets and lines
the fancy clothes and sunday wine

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