Golden days are days of yore,
Happy days in thoughts we store,
Memories of these times we had,
Looking under rocks for crabs,
Riding donkeys, digging holes.
Making castles, oh! so bold.

Splashing in the sea, so bright,
Dad with sunburn, what a sight,
Rock and ice-cream we would eat,
Basking in the glorious heat,
Tired and hungry when at eve,
Back to hotel, we would weave.

Having eaten, off to bed,
Oh! so tired, our prayer's were said,
Dreaming of another day,
In that sunny golden bay,
Aren't we lucky now we're old,
Having memories to unfold.

Happiness, in so many ways,
Oh! those lovely Golden Days.

by Basil Thorne

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