We must go to the beach today,
Let’s walk along the prom,
In coats and gloves, and bobble hats,
To see what’s going on.
The kiosks are still boarded up,
The season’s not begun,
Eastern winds swirl round the bay,
No warmth yet in the sun.
And yet, it’s busy on the front,
Easter, weeks away,
Painters, builders, salesmen, cleaners,
“Lots to do” they say
Deliveries are coming in,
To fill the sea front stores,
The deckchair man is painting stripes,
On twenty beach hut doors.
Café Owners buy their stock,
Of giant coffee tins,
Whilst Council workers on the path,
Are cleaning litter bins.
The theatre puts a poster up,
To sell the summer shows,
The Pier erects a brand new sign
“Open soon” it glows.
Everyone’s excited here,
The season is approaching,
“This year”, they say, “will be our best”,
At least that’s what they’re hoping.
We sit and watch these busy folk,
We’re lucky living here,
To see the seaside waking up
and start another year.