The Thames tide goes out,
the beachcomber appears
bones and stones exposed,
under ancient wooden piers,
The Thames tide goes out,
the frenzy of the gulls,
looking for a meal,
between the beached hulls,
Now the tide has turned,
reclaiming in its wake,
the secrets of the past,
right up to traitors gate.
Copyright 2017 Roger Tichborne
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