Sitting on the sun warmed sand,
wriggling feet to form a dip.
Gazing out at distant land,
seagulls trail a ship.
Feeling the soft kiss of waves,
as they tease my toes.
Hermit crabs in personal caves,
sand bugs in my clothes.
Sandwiches that crunch with grit,
laughter on the air.
Sand castles that sag a bit,
and ice creams bought to share.
Remembering my childhood past,
watching my three play.
Knowing that it doesn't last,
but wishing it would stay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
but it does last jazzy...from one generation to the next kws