Boat Festival Ellesmere Canal UK

 

We had no plans except to meet,
a long time since the last,
caught up the news before we left
then fifteen miles and pretty flags
beside the canal in Ellesmere.
A festival of boats and brass
plant pots, garish paint and dogs
upon the prow, dodging folding chairs
ropes and rings on  tow-path gravel.
stalls, organic jams and cakes
smells and thumping diesels;
shapely blouses, rainbows in the sun,
floppy hats, men, white legs,
perhaps the last of summer cotton
plastic wind mills, candy floss.
Cross the bridge,retriever caked in mud
its lead about my legs, owner in despair,
(none fell in but it was close)
if we had few would care
its only four feet deep.
Through the meadow by the cut
to find a quiet lane,
memories of childhood-springs
the glistening mere beyond the hill,
white steam-launch from a railway brochure,
seagulls, ducks and  incontinent geese !
Coffee, cream and Bakewell tart.
The rebuilt cafe, closed two anxious years,
no cosy drapes as once  
no feathers on the walls
no scratches on the table,  
now matching salt and pepper.