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Poetry from within
   

Buckets And Spades


Buckets and spades hang on the wall

In the garage, they look so forlorn

But soon they’ll be washed almost like new

As school summer holidays dawn



Tents will go up in the garden again

As owners test proofing and guys

Inflatable mattresses all checked for leaks

Sleeping bags all checked for size



Children’s excitement then starts to climb

They help with the packing of bags

It’s clear they can’t take all of their things

Enthusiasm soon enough sags



Then they are off in a hot laden car

Two holiday weeks by the coast

Looking for lorries of Eddie Stobart

And arguing who saw the most



The tent is set up in time for lunch

Then over the sand dunes they run

Stopping to pick up shells from the sand

School time was never such fun



Mum and dad follow slowed by the weight

Of cool bags,thermos and chairs

Inevitable windbreak and bright parasol

So the children can see which is theirs



Although it is sunny the sea is quite cool

But the kids splash around happily

Nothing can match a beach holiday

And sand in your butties for tea



Those buckets and spades are brought to life

New castles arise from the sand

Buckets of water fill up the moats

And flags make them all look so grand



For two weeks a year they both matter

Can’t do without them at all

Then they’re abandoned and destined

To hang on their nails on the wall

Don Holmes