From George’s head to the Pollock holes
The wind blows hard and the water rolls
People struggle up the strand
Raincoats on, umbrellas in hand
Hats fly off across the beach
Always blowing out of reach
Hardy swimmers brave the sea
As darkness falls at ten past three
Across the sky thunder crashes
Out over the bay lightning flashes
Torrential rain rips thru’ the air
Girls try in vain to save their hair
All run like mad in search of cover
A distraught babe wails for his mother
Beach now deserted, sad, forlorn
Windbreaks abandoned, tattered, torn
Is this some freak storm from o’er the sea?
No, its just summer in Kilkee!
© Copyright 2016 Mr Benn. All rights reserved.