Margaret A. Brennan
With Nothing More Than Sand - Poem by Margaret A. Brennan
I watched him work so feverishly
Digging up the sand.
Imagination was his ruler;
It had only to command.
The hole he dug was three feet deep
With sand hills piled around.
He shaped a little "sand" seat
In the wall just off the ground.
Next he took the tapered pail
And filled it to the brim.
Then with a swinging motion,
He pounded out the rim.
With sea shells now around the base
And a banner on the top,
He scraped the sand to form a door,
And said: "At last, I'll stop!"
Then as a last decision
With the shovel in his hand
He carved his name for all to see
On his castle in the sand.
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