At the beach when I was young,
The summer day was very long.
Sandy feet and sun-burned skin,
Street lights on, had to be in.
Black and white TV we’d gaze,
Oops, I give away my age.
To my room with shells collected,
Broken ones equally accepted.
One creature on sea bottom creeps,
Positive proof beauty’s skin deep.
Who the heck gave it its name?
No resemblance to a buck, or change.
But, Sand dollar is its label,
In the sun on the picnic table.
To dry off all of its green fuzz.
Always done this way, because.
To reveal the beauty beneath.
To the eye truly a treat.
From nature its body is carved,
With an image that renders a star.
Now white from the sun’s bright bleach,
Makes me miss my days at the beach.
The Sand Dollar I like the most,
Gathered hot days on the East Coast.
Its shell today like a screen I gaze.
In color now, clearly the days.
This round little shell of me reminds.
Better part of my childhood times.
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Author:
WriteBeLight (
Offline) - Published: October 6th, 2016 08:13
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 57
Offline)
Comments4
This is so sweet, very innocent but reflective on childhood times. This is great!
Thank you. I was reminded of how much I love Sand Dollars when someone gave me one that they collected over their summer vacation, and shown here with the poem. I appreciate your comment.
Reminds me of my childhood on the East coast
I am glad. Thanks.
Welcome
SAND D0LLARS are fabulous I collect them when I'm in the USA. We don't have them in the UK and strung on a chain they make a nice pendant. Thanks for sharing ~ BRIAN
You are very welcome. They are one of the most unusual things in this world.
And, if you see a broken one, it looks so delicate with more unusual shapes.
When you break them apart you have aa number of angels or doves for your efforts. Thanks.
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