After the moan about disabled parking; its time for a giggle.
The Autumn Seaside Town.
The seaside town in Autumn, the saddest place on Earth.
Dirty deserted boats rocking, in their end of seasons berth,
Ice cream adverts, rained stained, and sadly out of place,
Flower baskets with dead plants, all lacking former grace.
Shiny rain swept streets, with muddy leaf choked gutters.
Here and there an old coffee carton, adding to the clutter.
The shop awnings noisy flapping, in the West wind gale.
White plastic bags that tumble, along the beachside trail.
Shop fronts all darkened now, just vacant empty panes,
On the shelf a left over gift, a heart, a silver copy chain.
The seas are iron grey and angry, sweeping up the sand,
Summers gone, now the gales, will drive across the land.
Children’s voices quiet now, around the ice cream stalls,
No kiddies play on golden sand, no anxious parents call.
Summer yearning, the heartbreak of that love struck girl,
No young men to watch, the girl’s windswept skirts that swirl
The painful teenage heartaches of summer, tearfully gone away.
See the dry Autumn leaves drifting, was all this just yesterday?
Now Autumn’s here, and from the East, comes an icy blast,
Let us all be thankful! the Grockles have all gone home at last.
Autumn in Swanage.
By Dancing Ledge.
Posted by Anonymous to swanage view at 2/6/2005 03:48:51 PM