Bright the striped canvas, stretched tight,
             over the three frames of wood.
Bolted, right tight to each other.
             Through the centre of each of the
long sides of the wood
             It's sturdy, attractive; really looks good.
A complicatedly simple contraption,
             From which, for long generations,
Beach bums and know-alls can't hide.
             It will sit on the beach, quite tranquil and still,
All innocent and coy, until paid for
             That's when its heart leaps high with joy.
That's what gives it a thrill.
             For out on the beach, it has lessons to teach
And make many a mock' afore millions.
             For no matter which way they set the thing up
It's a stubborn, cussed, thing with, black heart,
             and a mind of its own. And happy it appears,
To reduce you to tears afore all of your peers,
             And nervously broken send you back home.
To add deckchairs to the list of your fears.