Brighton and Skegness

Each morning I would wake,
and climb the grassy banks
to taste the sea air of Lincolnshire..
golden sands, stretching for miles,
all you need is a spade
and a whole day could be spent
along the beach making trenches
in childhood Summers long ago,
we'd go to the fair, and sit in a
tavern garden, with a bag of crisps
and a bottle of Oringino,
mum and dad were young..
how I remember it now, yet
they don't know, long have they gone..
they let us enjoy this world
of bright colour and flashing lights
a  parade of sea side carnival..
a frivilous world..with gambling 
and gormandising, seventy miles
from home, yet half the village
was there, in the pit week,
in contrast we went to Brighton
beach is sixty yards at the most
just  mounds of pebbles..
no digging trenches here, nor
running on the aggregate coast
there's cute caverns
little shops of antiquity, and a pier,
but the jewel is The Pavilion
a Georgian holiday Palace
built in a grand style of the Taj,
in the middle  Brunswick Square,
I later lived as I loved it too much
and I danced in Sherries,
sometime in the late seventies
when I was just a young lass
difference is vast, between each
but I love them both equally
from the first day to the last.
Seven Dials, The Lanes, Devils Dyke
Churchill Square , PortSlade,
Roman Bank, Miners Walk,
Chip Pan Alley, Chapel and Ingoldmells
my Brighton and Skegness