The Chilly Dippers Union
Boldly marched across the sand.
Straight into the cold, cold sea,
Looking very very grand.

They say you must try it.
It’s warmer when you get in.
I said, I’ll give it a miss this time,
But next time, you’ll see me swim.

Dogs, dogs, dogs there are,
So many on the shore.
There’s a walker out there with a group of five,
There not all his, that’s for sure.

For many people, dogs were bought,
Especially when times were bad.
The dog was their main enjoyment,
That “Covid” would allow one to have.

A dog is not just for Christmas,
But many humans don’t understand,
So dog minding businesses are flourishing now
For exercising and toileting them on the sand.

The seagulls here they do have fun.
Having a ‘cracking’ good time.
Dropping sea shells from up above.
Rewarded with meaty cockles, tasting fine.

Let’s fly our kite, our lovely kite
Pushing speeds, as fast as they can get.
We’ll swoop it high, then swoop it low,
Before landing with a twirling pirouette.

To fly ones kite to such a great height
Our kite of many colours.
The children would cry - “This kite won’t work”.
So it’s left to fathers and mothers.

My favourite pastime on the beach.
Is watching a kite surfer speeding like a jet,
Faster and faster they whiz along,
But especially when they have leapt!

The amazing heights these surfers can reach,
When racing through the sea.
As I sit on the beach here dreaming,
Wishing it really could be me.

Wind surfing, so good to watch.
Such a lot of skill is needed
Manoeuvring sails back and forth,
Much practice before succeeding.

For 10,000 years man has built canoes
And has improved them when he could.
That character bought a paddle board,
But it’s just a glorified plank of wood.

Standing up as if on a gondola.
Just as they do in Venice.
But this is not the Grand Canal
60 seconds up right, deserves credit.

There are many ships we see pass by.
And windmills there are plenty,
The oil rigs, they are burning bright,
Our view is never empty.

With his lawn mower engine strapped to his back,
Off down the beach he does run.
The colourful canopy billows out behind,
Oh my goodness he’s going to have fun.

Into the sky, he soars like a eagle,
Let’s hope his petrol lasts out.
But what’s that I hear, a cough and a splutter,
And down he does come without doubt.

But on the way down his landing is blocked,
With dog walkers picking up poo,
He’ll have to be careful to pick the right spot,
Least he’ll end up with muck on his shoe.

We love to watch the sunsets,
So many we have seen.
But the rarest thing to delight the eye,
Is when it flashes green.

The Chilly Dippers Union.
Yes I think I’ll join the course,
I’ve nearly got my big toe in.
The rest I’ll have to force.