The beach
Walking careless
lines
Drawn deep in
sand
Where white
crabs crawl
In an
endless scrawl
Dodging watery
rivulets
Into kingly
castles set
Again, I
wonder why
Upon this
bluest sky
Frail yellow
petals torn
Drift on
the air forlorn
Finest seaweed
scattered
Misty dawn
rain splattered
Below, seahorses
pump air
Majestic in
a cerulean lair
Dwelling on
such things
Life
appears to hinge
As the
horizon runs free
In a silken
symmetry
Dragging my
mind afar
To where it
fails to jar
And as it
all comes to jell
I listen to
this curved shell.
copyright Vickie Johnstone, June 24, 2015
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