Like a wooden wendy house
The beech hut was a haven
A childhood constant
Which we creosoted every year
And which we loved and enjoyed
The sea, expansive and friendly
Was warm enough to swim in
The sand was soft and white
The summers were warm and sunny
And endless and carefree
Spent in shorts and T-shirts
Running around barefoot
In a bathing costume
Three generations swimming together
Followed by fish paste sandwiches
And a nice cup of tea
Barbecues, dogs barking
Everywhere, people having fun
The world seemed more innocent
Or is it just my rosy tinted specs?
Copyright © 2012 Vicky Newham. All Rights Reserved.
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