Ramsgate Bandstand Poem by Angela Wybrow

It had stood on the clifftop, tall and proud,
Drawing in many a record crowd,
But, time passed by, and the music ceased,
And the weeds and the cracks sadly increased.

Bathed in the Sun's golden glow,
Folk used to adore the Bandstand shows;
Dancing away to the latest tunes,
Or, sitting, listening to singers sweetly croon

Folk had danced upon its polished floor,
Often calling out for 'just one more;
The bandmaster often happily obliged,
And couples enjoyed one more jive.

Perched high above the shimmering sea,
The Bandstand was the place to be;
To attend performances, people flocked,
Whilst, in the Harbour below, pleasure craft docked.

For three decades, the bands played on,
But, for now, those days are over and gone;
This lovely attraction, so unique and ornate,
Has spent many a year, in a sorry old state.

Back from the brink of wrack and ruin,
A real sense of hope is suddenly brewing.
The Bandstand holds a place in people's hearts,
And, of their lives, they still wish it to be a part.

Maybe that old magic can now be revived
And, the Bandstand, once again, will come alive,
With music and dancing, just like before:
Who knows what the future holds in store?