End of Season
No Kiss me Quicks, no giggling girls,
no candy floss, no strawberry swirls,
no shuggy boats or bright blue skies
no donkey rides or coconut shies,
no arcade fun, no fishing off the pier,
no slot machines, no ginger beer.
November blues, an empty prom,
to sunny Spain they’ve all moved on.
Copyright © Peter Rees | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment