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Poetry Pleases: Reflections Of A Sandgrown 'Un

Barbara Robinson, a Sandgrown ‘Un as the natives of Blackpool are called, writes a poem about the famous seaside town.

I move among the crowds on Blackpool Promenade
Soaking in the sounds and smell.
The rattle of the trams, seagulls screeching overhead,
Shouting and laughter, the ubiquitous smell
Of onions and hotdogs assail my senses.
I look out to sea, sandy beaches stretch for miles.
Donkeys wait for children who will ride them
And enjoy the taste of salt from the sea spray.
Parents, children, teenagers and elderly people
All mingle together, a blur of red and blue.
Inland the Pleasure Beach predominates the scene.
The ‘Big One’ standing like a Colossus of old.
Hotels, shops, arcades as far as the eye can see.
I remember, as a child, walking the length
Of the Promenade to visit the Lights –
Such a wonderland!
For visitors Blackpool means so many things.
For me it is HOME.

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