The Beach
This is my beach where I grew up, riding my bike on the prom,
Swimming and playing with pebbles and sand, the smell of the sea, so strong.
Nearby are sleepers lined up on the beach, leading the way to the sea.
Sitting on top of them, one little boat with its net full of fish for your tea.
I can see families all dotted about enjoying themselves, having fun.
Others are jogging or walking the dog or simply asleep in the sun.
Up at the top of the beach there are shrubs, sea holly and asters of mauve.
Seagulls are poking around in the greenery, a veritable bird treasure trove.
Up, far above, an expanse of bright blue, a canvas of nothing but sky
Is suddenly interrupted because some soft, fluffy clouds floated by.
Their shadow soon passes, the sunshine returns and everyone’s goose pimples are gone.
But I have no care, I love to be there, it’s my home, it’s where I belong.
JAM 15/05/2018
About the Creator
Julie Murrow
I'm an avid reader, writer and pianist. I have written on a variety of subjects and in various genres from children's stories, poetry and history to adult short stories. My three Skinny Pigs and I live by the sea, where I grew up.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.