Whitby Sands

If benches wore sitters' shadows,

Whitby's would be wearing ours,

Along East Cliff, West Cliff, in Pannett Park,

And down Henrietta Street.

The beach would still pop with our sandpies

And the pier boards feel our feet.

Yet in all our trips around the bay,

We never saw the porpoise play,

Or seals waving careless flippers

Among the creatures on the shore,

Where the Walrus and the Carpenter

Invited oysters out to dine

And Dracula scampered up Whitby sands

To leave the Demeter behind.

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