Sandringham Sands
There's a beach in Sandringham,
And sun pours like molten gold;
Gives radiance to the waters and
Is as charming as in days of old.
Graceful birds circle cliff and crag,
Above pretty castles in the dunes;
Forever days seem still and drag,
As they sing their haunting tunes.
She lived in bliss there long ago;
But, by no means has come again.
Only rumor explains why this is so,
The sporadic whispers in the lane!
At the end of Beach Road, upon a hill,
An empty cottage overlooks a beach;
The moon is gone like a sudden thrill,
And torrid summer is ripe like a peach!
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