Said 'Golden Sands'
the brochure glowing,
litter deep -
bins over-flowing,
scattered deck-chairs,
parasols,
'Wayne and Tracey' on their hols -
slowly in the bright sun frying'
'thought the 'factor eight' applying!
Their seven days have just begun,
six whole nights of endless fun,
watching breakers gently roll,
into this forsaken hole -
little johnny happily dashing,
in amongst the sewage splashing!
Along 'the prom' flashing bright
children up and down all night,
'beach-wear shops' and fish and chips;
elderly folk with 'dodgy hips -
up and back you've seen it all,
back to the digs and climb the wall!
No comments:
Post a Comment