1 August 2012
Rolling surf and salty air, Sandwiches and pop, Donkey rides without a care, Ice cream with nuts on top, Paddling 'mid frothy waves, Tickling my toes, And Uncle Albert, buried there, Laughing through his nose.
All shapes and sizes splash about, Wallowing in fun, And deck chairs laid out side by side, Lazing in the sun. Happy lads and happy girls, With not a care in sight, Frolic in the joy of it, And scream with sheer delight.
Those were the days I relish most, Those halcyon days of yore, And still I visit when I can, That very same sea shore, I sit and watch the children play, As once I used to do, And smile as I remember, The seaside I once knew.
At The Seaside • Opuss № I