The seaside in the winter
The seaside in the winter
Is such a soulless place
But has an empty
Captivating beauty to its face
The chipped paint helter-skelter
The seagulls in the breeze
Hoping for the chip shop doors
To open in the freeze
The smell of frying doughnuts
Is stippled in the paint
Children’s cries and laughter echoes
Though, the sea’s spray makes it faint
The seaside in the winter
Though no-one wants to visit
There’s nothing quite so British
It’s really quite exquisite