A poem inspired by Whitby Gin's connection
to the towns rich history
Minutes creep on, centuries flash by
over silver seas, under blue moon sky.
The embrace of the harbour provides a home
For brave wanderers willing to roam
A ship in the distance, with a whale heart
left its barred treasure before its depart.
A single, frail yet eager rowboat
steadied on the sand no longer afloat.
A shadow in blue and grey apron
ran down cobbles easily mistaken.
She roams the coastline and dips below
the oceans skin is where she must go
Touched her palm on his boat, feet on the sand
a bag of junipers placed into her hand.
The smugglers wife full of resource and tricks
got her final ingredient for her gin mix
By Jessica Slater