Busking on Broadstairs Beach ~ A poem by Lesley Quayle

Busking on Broadstairs Beach

The night was liquid,
a sultry, heady brew
when we unlocked the music,
cool plains of sax
and smoky coils
of rhythm from an old guitar,
no rush when the song,
smooth as a dark river,
smooched the air.

Out across gold water
cruised by moon
and the whisky glow
of the promenade lights,
it streamed like sparks,
grazing sea now and then,
laidback, sighing.

From somewhere
the hurdy gurdy gabble
of a fairground organ
waddled into the night,
bumped into our busking,
made us turn up the volume
till an irate romeo chased us –
coitus interruptus-

sax and sex one summer night
on Broadstairs beach.

Lesley Quayle

Lesley Quayle is a widely published, prizewinning poet and a folk/blues singer, currently living in Dorset. Her poetry collection, Sessions, was published by Indigo dreams and her latest pamphlet, Black Bicycle, was published last year by 4Word Independent poetry press. She tweets @lesley_quayle

Photo credit @nihaldemirci at http://www.unsplash.com