We bounced high,
laughing
to the sea's edge.
Crumpled sandcastles rebuilt
with lolly-stick towers,
shell battlements
and a bucketed moat,
sea filled, then derelict,
as we ran the blonde grit
never looking back.

 

Free from fear,
our sea waved us
through summer,
its paddled time
blanching our new feet
white as ice cream,
that escaped our lips
through soggy cornets.

 

It took no special effort
to fight those rock monsters,
eat chips out of
last month's newspaper,
with vinegar seeping
through out small fingers,
while we rode the top deck
in pure heaven.