Plash…keesh… plash…keesh
the waves throw themselves
onto the pebbly beach,
...
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I can smell the salt in this poem and feel the heat of the sun sparkling on your wet shiny jewels and slowly drying them to softer and more subdued colours. You see with the eye of the child Michael. Magical poem. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxxx
This appeals to the child in all of us, Michael...all the reasons we love the beach with its scattered 'jewels' and its soft whispering. Raynette
PS...A score of 10 for the sheer pleasure of the read. Fran xx
I love this one, Michael. I'm forever picking up pebbles from the sea shore and looking at their beauty (often better wet, as you mention) and wondering where they came from and how long they have been manipulated by the pounding of the waves. It's not just children who do this....... I like the phonetics at the beginning of the poem, too. Love, Fran xxx
To me this poem is marvelous. I love the sea, the beach, all the jewels you've written of here within...The part of me that needs to always be at or able to get there will always be childlike and that is fine....You have done the ocean and all its majesty proud in this work of yours..........marci.m. :)