Sandringham Sands

There's a beach in Sandringham, And sun pours like molten gold; Gives radiance to the waters and Is as charming as in days of old. Graceful birds circle cliff and crag, Above pretty castles in the dunes; Forever days seem still and drag, As they sing their haunting tunes. She lived in bliss there long ago; But, by no means has come again. Only rumor explains why this is so, The sporadic whispers in the lane! At the end of Beach Road, upon a hill, An empty cottage overlooks a beach; The moon is gone like a sudden thrill, And torrid summer is ripe like a peach!