Poem: Cullercoats.
Cullercoats.
.
A very long time ago
In a land of childhood
We used to holiday
Away at the seaside.
Not really far from home
But it did involve a taxi,
A journey on a steam train
And then a long tiring walk
With two dusty suitcases.
They were all sunshine days
With buckets of fresh winkles
To boil on the enamel stove,
And carrots for the milkman’s horse,
Bags of sweetly dripping plums
As many as we could swallow.
Lying half asleep at night
Listening to mum and dad chatting
It was definitely happiness.
.
.
