The tides, they are a changing

The tides, they are a changing

There was no disguising

The early warning

The pre-morbidity

We were all okay

Before the reminder came

It shivered the timbers

Turned us into believers

Nobody was hurt

Not then

The tide turned

Too late for some

So they said

This coast was known for it

But we were marooned

For a few hours

On an island paradise.

Wind tossed waves

Lapped at our feet

Beat against the rocks we stood upon

Waving not drowning

Cliched, just this once

Seagulls ate all the bread

Picked over the crumbs

Like vultures stripping meat

From the ribcage of a beached whale.

We were told

It would be a high tide

The moon was full

Of itself

Exerting as much pull

As it could

And didn’t give a fig

For a Sunday school trip

To the seaside.

We were covered in olive oil

Whoever thought that was a good idea

Should try sitting on a charabanc for two hours

Wearing a cotton shirt over

Blistered skin.

The RNLI were very good about it

Volunteers to a man

Full of bonhomie

And raging good humour

But what can a person say

When they get stuck on the rocks

Without parental consent

And too much sun on their backs.

We were all in tears

Even the helmsman

Thought we deserved to be

The butt of the joke

There was no disguising it

We were a bunch of fools

Slow to take responsibility

And nobody was hurt

Not then.