Poetry

As I step upon the sand

By 18th November 2010December 9th, 2019No Comments

As I step upon the sand,
I cant help myself leave a print of my hand
I leave behind with each step I take
All my worries while I enjoy my break

To feel the warm wet grains ooze up between my toes
From the depths of me, my soul glows

Climbing over boulders and rocks
In my pockets my rolled up socks
Small starfish and crabs, and on rocks, barnacle
Each small discovery to me a miracle

I found wondrous things in pools at low tide
Then show my folks with a lot of pride

The surf lapping at the beach
The grass covered sand dunes it cannot reach
Where others are having fun up and down the shore
Running out of the water, then turning back for more

Beckons me to paddle with squeals of delight
But that first cold wet contact gives me a fright

There is another pastime to enjoy and explore
The making of majestic castles, at least one maybe more
Vast keeps of old rise up from the soft grains of sand
Such massive structures with motes, how grand

It is wonderful fun to see the structures grow
And then watch the water in the mote flow

A few other things must be done at the seaside
Fish and chips and ice creams must be tried
For some a flake pushed in the top is a must
But for all on that warm sunny day it’s a treat I trust

No matter how fast you lick, melted cream run down the cone
And you will definitely get brain freeze right down to the bone

For some there is the pull of the penny arcade
Where tiny fortunes are lost and made
With flashing lights and things to win
Walking out with armfuls of stuffed toys with a grin

There is pinball and bingo and arcade game
But once you have been in one, the others are the same

There is something that most of us at some time have got
The humble, rolled multi coloured and flavoured seaside rock
With words like Blackpool and Great Yarmouth in the middle
How they put them there has always been quite a riddle

a plain bit of seaside rock, nothing can beat
trying to peal off the label in such blistering sticky heat

Over time I did start to see the beauty of our coast
In places remains can be seen, left like a ghost
Vast vistas of seas and Cliff tops
Down to the micro environments between the Rocks

Our shores are precious and unique to our lands
Every stone, fossil, seal and grain of sand

Chris Duncan

Author Chris Duncan

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