Whitstable golf course

Honeysuckle slidesunder glowering skyperfume high in my senseslike Aphrodite’s smile.Green of the greengolfer’s roll likecardboard cut outsThrush and swallowbaby blue tit followsclematis hoversover garden fenceto garnish wood note.Far behind the seaslurps shades ofsinew’d bluesheralding ice creamlong summer dayson the coastal plainbreathing you in .