Classic Poem

Lo! the holiday season draws near
And the question is: How shall we spend it?
Shall we patronize Margate, this year,
Where, I'm told, they've repainted the pier?
Shall we visit Boulong?
Or go south to Mong Blong
And ascend it?
Shall we cross to The Hague — which is merely a step —
Or enjoy the sea-bathing at Dieppe?

Though the weather's too sultry, I feel,
For a trip to Morocco or Venice,
Far away we might secretly steal
To a cottage at Dornoch or Deal,
Or Le Touquet, methinks,
Where they've excellent links
And lawn tennis.
There's Skegness, too, " so bracing " (the posters report)
While Bexhill is a " winsome " resort!

But whatever our holidays are —
If we sail a small dinghy at Dover,
If we tour through the Lakes in a car,
If we lounge at Ostend in a bar —
In a fortnight, I know,
We shall long for them so
To be over!
It's delightful, of course, to make plans, and to pack,
But it's pleasanter far to get back!