Little boats bob
Big boats glide
There's life in the mud
An ancient church
And a pub on the other side

Wild flowers bloom in the sun
Protected by the churchyard wall
Inside rows of box pews facing East
Well maintained at least

Oddly laying at the back
A sarcophagus carved in stone
No doubt a gardener
Would value as a planter

No one comes these days she says
Pouring water in the font
Flowers ready
Only people such as us

Satisfied we sacrifice a coin
Pop it in the slot
Walk back past the tower round
The congregation underground
Through the lilting seabird song to find
Ham egg and chips and a drink
Just to wet the lips
It's the Summer time