Caravan ©

Time was we would pack and go
North to the Granite City
Arran jerseys and sun cream
Both needed in the caravan days

No thought of airports then
Planes were for businessmen
And transatlantic trips
For people I didn’t know

Hazelhead park and pipe bands
Gardens and rows of roses
Between twin roads
And brave houses of granite

Beautiful skyline in summertime
Turrets on homes built for monied folk
When the red sun lit the chimneypots
And fir trees turned to black in the night

Early morning rolls and butteries
The smell of bacon and coffee
Men walking well behaved dogs
Children with clean t-shirts and shorts

The collective sigh as yet another day
gifted sun and blue skies
we need all the help given
living in a caravan in Aberdeen