A Bit of Time in Brid

The last time was to see The Last of the Shadow Puppets, who were excellent, as was the accommodation out by the zoo. This time it was November and we stayed on the seafront, which was another good choice, as was Burlington's for a classical evening meal for Andrew's birthday.

But best of all was the sunlight over the sea and the sands, to say nothing of the coffee and cake in the tea rooms, and in the Pavilion on the Royal Prince's Parade, where the great and the good had their words painted on the walls.

This was a short break, highlighted by the sad goings-on at YCC which dominated the radio both going and coming home.

The poetry is from the LOTSP time, here goes:

Tears

One girl

For no apparent reason

Is crying inconsolably

Her teacher tries to calm her

But with little success

So she then turns

To another child

Who she says is always good-humoured

And asks could she cheer up the sad girl

Who does in fact steady herself

But fails to allow a smile

Which ought to be the natural reaction

To her friends expression of fun

And joy, and willingness to care

For the deeply distraught youngster

How deep is her hurt

Where does the pain arrive from

How many years before she is released