Sign up with your email address to be the first to know about new products, VIP offers, blog features & more.


As usual Uncle Tacko is trundling

his Flea Circus to the end of the pier,

and the Island Princess is embarking

for a trip up the Straits and around

Ynys Seiriol with its nesting puffins,

its elderberry woodland purpling.

And the dogged chambers of my heart, open

and close, open, close, like an harmonium.


All the familiar sounds – the Flea Circus crowd,

the paddlers in the pool, the revellers

on the hotel lawn next door – carry

to this balcony like paper lanterns.

Who would have thought that, like war babies

from Surbiton holidaying per annum

always in Bournemouth or Bognor Regis,

we would count the benches here every year,

value each of the stanchions of the pier,

the stones of the castle, the courthouse, the gaol.

I see you crossing the Green towards the house.

The medicated chambers of my furtive

heart are humming, like a Welsh male voice choir,

‘The more I see you as years go by’.



Note: Uncle Tacko’s Flea Circus:

© Copyright David Selzer
4 Responses
  • Paul Jenkins
    August 28, 2020

    Wow! ‘Many a Summer’ is just a stunning poem. Just brings amazing pictures to my mind. Thank you, David.

  • da-AL
    August 28, 2020

    What a wonderful mental image you’ve created, David, especially welcome during this challenging era – thanks so much for sharing!!

  • Keith Johnson
    August 30, 2020

    Go well sweet boy – keep safe: ‘The medicated chambers of my furtive heart are humming, like a Welsh male voice choir’ – keep lusty!

  • Ashen Venema
    September 25, 2020

    The humming heart, lovely.

What do you think?

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *