Dropping My Ice Cream…
Ice cream cones.
Cornets they were called.
Perfect for a warm afternoon
On a south coast beach.
But my ice cream cone
Fell from my grasp and my joy stalled.
I stared in horror and quite soon
My pleasure was beyond reach…
I failed to prevent tears falling too. And I cried
For the loss of my treat,
Perfect for a holiday snap
On the soft, silky, Dorset sand.
I sat distraught, laughed at, awry
And I was indiscreet
At the loss from my mishap
With vanilla on mouth and hand…
A replacement cone
Provided by someone near,
Was perfect my chagrin to allay,
As I sat frowning, ill at ease.
The sumptuous cone
Restricted my flowing tears
And as the others dispersed to play,
I glowered in recovery, curiously appeased…
Pete Ray
This happened, as one can see by the images, rather meanly taken either by my father, whose compassion was conspicuous by its absence, or perhaps by my Uncle Jack.
 |
| THAT'S BETTER... |
Although I cannot be sure, I believe it was Jack who replaced my cornet though, for my dad’s view would have been,
“Tough…”
THE COX IN THE SAND BOAT... 
RING FOR PADDLING... 
SAFE WATER... 
WITH COUSIN LINDSEY...
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