Children Playing on the Beach by Mary Cassatt |
I walk along the ocean's edge today
I feel the warm, wet sand beneath my toes
Remembering the times I used to play
With grandmother in summers long ago
Collecting seashells buried in the sand
Like treasures waiting just for us to find
Along the beach we wandered, hand in hand
Our shoes as well as worries left behind
And though today I walk the beach alone
I still keep my eyes cast upon the sand
To search for seashells even though I'm grown
Our treasures there to seek within the strand
I gaze upon my shells and feel so blessed
Those Sarasota summers were the best!
5 comments:
fond memories that echo in the shells. nice reminder mi amiga
Treasures of hand holding and the surpriaes of nature - I dearly love those things too and hope my children remember them. Sweet poem
This is a stylish sonnet, LM. I love the sound qualities, and what better sounding word could there be than Sarasota? It seems quite magical to me.
Unabashedly sentiment and beautiful. Loved this one.
So nice to be able to have something...like the seashells...as a tangible keepsake to remind you of those Sarasota memories.
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