Painted in evening colours,
The sky glowed,
In an array of orange shades
And the rays sparkled,
Through every wave and wavelet,
That hugged the shore.
Over the sand, she ran,
Stamping little wavelets.
Tiny droplets from sky,
Softly hit her skin,
Washing off all barriers
And she giggled, laughed
And danced,
As her wet hair,
Brushed against her clothes,
Dropping on her knees,
She laughed at the world of men
That tore her down,
But failed to defeat her words.
She sunk her body,
Against the freezing sand,
Droplets fell and slid away,
Breeze gently rubbed her skin.
Tears in eyes,
She got up and walked,
Into the depths of waters.
Leaving her body print,
Back on the sand.
Very visual, even sensual. Makes one think. Good work. Martin
Excellent! Roopa, regrets on the sand soon the waves take off? A very touching poem..................
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Roopa, I like the crisp images expressed in your poem 'Her Body Print on Sand' and the way you stick up for her right to express herself completely in a world of men who shamefully may not value her opinion. I like the whole idea of a body print in the sand. We do not get much snow down here where I live, and so body prints in the sand are the closest we ever get to making snow angels.