Free soaring, anchored flight;
Tied to a tail of whimsical joy.
Willing servant to the wind,
To cares, an effective decoy.
Unaware of her rapid pace,
And frequently peering behind.
Glimpsing a sun-filtered silhouette,
Loosening string; a magical climb.
What memories will future years bring,
Of the once exuberant child?
Who flew red kites in the sand,
And inspired smiles with her smiles.
Grasping tight to soaring gem,
Which flitters as if trying to break free.
Connected by a cloth chain,
And a little girls’ dream…
The soft, wet, and sandy mud,
Slips through controlled clasped hands.
Drip upon drip creates a castle,
Which always submits to the tides’ demands.
Hunting for their prey
Seagulls stand in formation
Waiting for my snacks
pic: my collection
(in my defense, is a pic of a pic! LOL)
There is a shell beside me now,
I retrieved from the ocean blue.
I place my ear against its form,
Hearing the sounds of waves made new.
The air is laced with a delicate mist,
The wind is random and sporadic.
Gulls soar and dive with precision,
I know electric enchantment in the synaptic.
Individual grains of sand take flight,
Capsules of histories’ lasting imprints.
Evidential footprints untouched,
To be washed away by salty grips.
The feelings adrift within my core,
Align with the tides’ ebb and flow.
Calmness blankets my spirit,
Peace refreshes my soul.
I am wrapped in solitude’s stillness,
Safe upon the diminishing shoreline.
As I ponder things of old,
Swallowed by the sea over time.
Old poem revision.