Round the corner of Cockle Row Cottage

Boys hoking for worms
‘Tween dollops of seaweed
Filling their plastic buckets in turns

Little tugs panting
Buoys bopping about like chocolate Smarties
And the bells of the boats chanting

Salty smiles the sea ridden sort
Casting out from the harbour walls
Dragging the beds of Groomsport

Coves of grey slimy boulders
Coves of light riddled sand
And the ocean on people’s shoulders