We must go to the beach today and walk along the prom,
In coats with gloves, and bobble hats, to see what’s going on.
The kiosks, all are 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 wooden beach hut doors.
Café owners buy their stocks 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 “We’re 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 being here,
To see the seaside waking up and start another year.
David's Poems 