Farewell, Criccieth

Farewell, Criccieth, our holiday is done,
we’ve enjoyed our stay, we’ve enjoyed our fun,
shared together in caravan, on beach
as the sun has shone,
we’ve all got brown:
rain has come and gone 
that caused a frown
but did heights of pleasure, of oneness reach.

The seagulls high swirled and tossed
over waves that wet embossed
each sandy shore twice a day
while chill winds made dune grasses sway.

Goodbye, Criccieth, our energy is spent,
and our money too, but it was clearly meant
as a period of change and needful rest
in the climb of mount,
though tired we were,
things that really count
were made to stir,
made to know refreshment at soul’s request.

The Autumn comes, swallows turn
to their homes, inside they yearn
for waiting friends, well known ways
strengthened by their distant days.

Farewell, Criccieth, we leave your house and shore,
but the pictures held in memory’s store
shall, in Winter’s enfolding dark and chill,
be a solace warm,
a comfort’s fire,
bring strength to form,
the soul inspire,
brief restore some moments of Summer’s thrill.