But not as we know it.
With the relentless north-east wind
Whipping the fresh green and white to a foaming froth
The tide racing up river in wind-assisted abandon
The sky a lowering lid of scudding grey clouds.
We braved the Festival of Britain garden earlier, fully wrapped.
Now we’re inside.
Windows firmly shut and the heating on.
And this afternoon perhaps a 50s film on tv before a nice lamb’s heart stew.
This England!
9 June 2013
Riverview Songs 