Southwold Sea front
The village green, the village hall,
The village church - I’ve seen them all,
A piece of perfect nothing missed,
A stranger’s welcome - get the drift,
Built to scale, drawn by the sea,
A picture postcard - nothing’s free!
Blustery gale across the pier,
The seagull echoes quaver near,
Then most eccentric British quaint:
The sight of huts adorned in paint,
All Colours of a rainbow turned
Grey sky to promise - price to earn,
“What am I bid? A thousand you say,
Who’ll pay me the balance of 49K?”
The price seems so dear,
But what do you know,
The fancy of old -
The Emperor’s new clothes!
©Philip Holden



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