Holiday of Old

Those six week hols from way back when,
We travelled to Clacton again and again,
A fun filled time so simple too,
Spent in the caravan never felt blue.

We scoured the beaches for hours and hours,
Collected the crabs and starfish like flowers,
Then fish and chips with donuts to treat,
All in the caravan we’d happily eat.

We’d go to the funfair, for amusements and games,
Sometimes the circus with men blowing flames,
The fun that we had was second to none,
And happiest I’d been with just having fun.

The beach was my favourite for hours I’d roam,
Search all the rock pools with bucked and comb,
But a tear to my eye when the caravan was sold,
But always to remember the holidays of old.

By Mike Olson

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