Old craggy rocks sit on sandy beaches

With dirt tracks trudged and shaped over time

Or steps of symmetrical concrete provide easy access

Leading up to hills and cliff tops of grass and wild flowers

Surrounding a city, famously named after a raiding Viking King

Or so legend says

There’s a football team, a rugby team

And a marching band with pressed uniforms

Tall hat’s and polished kazoo’s for every occasion

Marching through the streets, as proud as punch and some

Lead by a long silver, orb ended, stick for twirling and throwing

Mind your heads

And on a night of a full moon

When Lady Luna’s at her brightest

The bay reflects her cold light, an icy glow

Cast over a mill pond you could almost skate on

And the lighthouse, shining its beacon for far and wide    

Keep mariners safe

This is my city, my place of…