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When I was six my grandmother
brought me to the beach to explore.
We packed wet sand in a pink plastic bucket
and sculpted a sand castle fit for King Solomon.
It had turrets, and a drawbridge, and seashell
tapestries.
A moat with driftwood alligators defended it
from rolling waves.
When we left it was still there, toothpick flags
waving in the fishy air.
And as I think back,
part of me believes
it's there still;
that it was never reclaimed by the tide.
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by Aisling Ash
When I was six my grandmother
brought me to the beach to explore.
We packed wet sand in a pink plastic bucket
and sculpted a
by Poppy Matt
Sitting on the sand
Looking off the land
The high tides
The low tides
That drops off at my feet
The sand tickles my feet
The chill
by L D Redmond
Somewhere in the distant ocean,
lies a magical island amid the motion
of tumbling waves and salty spray,
beaches of yellow,
rocks
by Marty Shuff
The Ocean
The vast view of the ocean amazes me.
I love to watch the waves as they roll in.
The water reaches endlessly out to
SUMMER, LATE
Across the long horizon flow the tan dunes,
Sprinkled heavily with tall grasses waving at the green amongst them,
shimmering
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Poetry: The beach
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