Poem of the week Devil’s Dyke

WHEN I was young we used to hike

From Brighton to the Devil’s Dyke.

In those days we would get our thrills

From roly-polys down the hills.

I remember that old cosy shack

But with the passing of the days

We see a changing of the ways.

Now hordes of people think it swell

To party at the Dyke Hotel

They’re rushing to the great outdoors

There are camper vans and four-by fours

And dogs and children by the scores

Remblers, riders, and hang gliders

Joggers, hikers, hairy bikers

Rush to join the ‘Devil Dikers’.

Then when the day is nearly done

We watch the setting of the sun

With cameras clicking one by one

And people- people having fun.

Jonathan Bryant