Whitby

Looking down the River Esk to the harbour

Whitby Abbey

Cobbled streets, old alleyways
The stalls on the hill on market days

Trawlers bringing in their haul
Of fish or lobsters, crabs and all

Splashing out of the harbour on a windy day
Trip boats go bobbing around the bay

Seagulls perching on lamppost tops
Tourists browsing the souvenir shops

Sit on the cliff top and look across

You lookin' at me?

To the grand abbey ruins above the rooftops

Thoughts turn to Dracula but just for a minute
We realise it's fiction and there's nothing in it

Fish and chips or a shellfish platter
Ice cream or candyfloss? Have both - does it matter?

Wash it all down with a pint or two
Stroll back to the bus taking in a last view

Snooze on the coach home and dream of the day
That you'll go back to Whitby and do it again.

© Keith Johnson 2012
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