Sunday, September 11, 2016 Brighton, England
A U Boat, the Blitz, ice cream, and a dome,
Are memories I put into this poem,
Two weeks before my roam brings me home.
U-234 sat in Hamburg's harbor,
A floating chunk of the second world war.
No submarine hat I bought on that score.
Across the channel, by a church, locked,
A woman, 90, told Blitz tales that shocked
Me, lifelong in peace happily docked.
Europe's craze, ice cream, Curator Loske told,
Rose two centuries past, in King George's bold
Brighton Pavilion, under a dome now old.
The shore raged under moving clouds last night.
Now the sun shines under waves rippling bright.
Past and future exist now, in the mind's sight.
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