A Favourite Place

In the South of France the town of Cannes
Is a marvellous place to get a tan.
But what means the most to me
Is its palm-lined boulevard by the sea.

From port to port it curves away
Along the sparkling crescent bay.
The warm waves break against the land
Spraying across the sprinkly sand.

Tourists wandering here and there
Take deep breaths of fresh sea air.
An ice cream shop every ten steps
Or maybe you'd prefer a crepe?

Martinez, Carlton, grand hotels,
Salty, suncream, seaside smells.
Lambos, Ferraris, Maseratis
Make traffic jams among the parties.

The beach is covered with umbrellas
And friendly, smiling, knick-knack sellers.
Along the seafront everywhere
They're selling beads and hats and hair.

Rows of chairs to see the view
Over the big wide ocean blue.
My favourite restaurant, Vesuvio,
Has pizzas, pasta, escargots.

When hot Cannes day turns into night
Rainbows of light burst into sight.
And every fourteenth of July
Fireworks blast into the sky.

A funfair at each end blares loud
Above the kids and laughing crowd.
I always get the yummy churros
Though they cost about twenty Euros.

In the South of France the whole world meets
Along Cannes' magical seaside street.
You'll never find -I'll take a bet -
A more perfect road than La Croisette.