Take me across
The heather-topped hills.
Let’s drive, window down,
So, my hair tickles my face.
Take me to
The sandy beach.
Toes dipped into North Sea.
Collected shell mementoes.
Take me to
The cobbled streets
And hidden yards.
See the living history.
Take me down
Henrietta Street.
Strong smoked kipper smell.
Imagine we live there.
Take me up
To St Mary’s.
I will read the gravestones
And think about what life is.
Take me to
Visit Whitby Abbey.
Let me feel small and insignificant
Against the ancient walls.
Take me down
The pier.
Hold my hand.
Watch the pink-gold sunset.
Take me to the harbour.
Look at the colourful bobbing boats
And feel serene.
Take me across the swing bridge.
Be lost in the sea of faces
And familiar football shirts.
Take me to
The Whalebone Arch.
Pose for photographs
In front of dramatic views.
Take me to
Our cottage.
Sea-air induced sleep
And dreams of tomorrow.
