Walked along the riverbank
the tide full on the turn
Admiring all the houseboats
moored along the berm

Spanning one hundred ten years plus
their eclectic painted beams
proudly claim the seaward side
of Shoreham life it seems

There are one and forty vessels here
each one with pride of place
With maritime claim on history
Protected here with grace



Sad, bereft, alone, forgotten
Small boat on the bank
It’s final resting place remains
From the day it sank

Rotting and its old paint faded
Graffiti now replaces
Vacant eyes look to the water
Holes with tattered spaces

Water-filled as high tide turns
It has seen better days
A sad and trite reminder
Of a fatal summer blaze


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