A Lost Love (Lulworth Cove Revisited)
So, I’ll go no more a-roving,
From Salisbury to reach,
(by Blandford Forum hoving),
Lulworth’s lonely, magic beach.
For childhood gave a when and where,
You can never quite regain.
You’re doomed to fail to get there,
If you ever try again.
This year I sought my boyhood joy,
With Mrs M. and hound.
To show them where I’d joyed as boy,
That joy soon ran aground!
Back then, we’d rush from slumber snug,
To pack the car apace,
With picnic, deckchairs, tartan rug,
And windbreak (just in case).
We’d ramble down some rural road.
As the map got Mum perplexed.
While Dad drove more and more like Toad,
And his language got quite vexed.
So on by Wareham, Studland, Corfe,
The tension grew and growed.
Then, just before they called it off,
We’d reach the end of road.
We’d park the car, we’d scale the rise,
And there my Heaven lay.
A lonely cove with endless skies,
Where I could swim all day.
For me, fore’er, a place apart.
I thought to share my love.
This year they loved it. ‘Break my heart!’,
T’was not my Lulworth Cove.