How fast a fortnight flies...
how very blue the sea was.
How I tried to chase
the ripples back to shore...
how it came undone,
that knitted swimsuit I wore,
whilst burying Dad’s toes
as he dozed – stereotypical
hankie on head; corners tied.
My mum, nattering to yours,
and how high the sea-gulls flew
as we watched with shaded eyes.
How I took a deep breath, said,
“Hello! My name's Christina...
so what’s yours then?” Surprised
you dropped your choc-ice...
face-down, and my brother
teased yours, and how our dog
chased the waves;
did as he pleased, shook,
then sneezed, and how trumpets
played so loud we held our ears,
while the band played on.
How we queued for an age
on the sand for our pictures
on a donkey and your dad
said a bob was tantamount
to daylight robbery...
And how, by the pier, ‘neath
beach-balls and sandaled feet
we two dug a tunnel; you
at one end, me at the other...
and how, at long-last, we broke
through and both our hands met,
and my heart skipped a beat and
how I wish you were here.
Comments
celticman | January 23, 2011 - 17:30
brilliantly evocative of beach wildlife.
Silver Spun Sand | January 23, 2011 - 19:43
Isn't it just?
Thanks, celcticman;-)
Tina
seashore | January 23, 2011 - 20:42
Gentle nostalgia, if that makes sense. Enjoyed reading it.
Highhat | January 23, 2011 - 21:37
Very beautiful nostalgia
;)Pia
Silver Spun Sand | January 23, 2011 - 21:47
Your lovely comment made more sense than most things do these days, and I thank you for it;-)
Tina
Silver Spun Sand | January 23, 2011 - 21:48
Pia, thank you. Much appreciated.
Tina
Beeme | January 23, 2011 - 21:52
I agree, I could have been right there. Such a lovely picture you paint Tina, more than well done on the cherry.
Beeme xx
ScoZen | January 23, 2011 - 22:01
ScoZen
Fully agree with celticman, his comment says it all.
Only two weeks holiday, what a shame.
I'm fortunate I can stay on the beach for as long as I wish.
Every Summer is just like how you describe it.
ps
Still have donkeys rides here.
Kind regards.
Geertje Jong | January 23, 2011 - 22:14
O Tina those far away days, I can hear the sea-gulls wheeling overhead as I read...lovely..can't wait for the summer and Cornwall.
Geertje;)
Geertje Jong | January 23, 2011 - 22:16
O Tina those far away days, I can hear the sea-gulls wheeling overhead as I read...lovely..can't wait for the summer and Cornwall.
Geertje;)
Silver Spun Sand | January 23, 2011 - 23:50
Many thanks, Beeme. Much better at painting with words than I am with pukka paint...fortunately. Glad you enjoyed;-)
Tina xx
Silver Spun Sand | January 23, 2011 - 23:52
Hi there! You make me dreadfully envious, ScoZen. And donkey rides too. Do you live in paradise? Sounds pretty close to me;-)
Seriously, much appreciate your reading, and commenting so thoughtfully.
Cheers!
Tina
Silver Spun Sand | January 23, 2011 - 23:56
And they certainly are far away days at the moment, Geertje. Cornwall, eh? I used to holiday with my family at Watergate Bay, just outside Newquay. I understand that in recent years, the surfing cult has somewhat engulfed that particular part of the coastline. Nevertheless, happy memories and most of Cornwall is still deliciously unspoiled and breath-takingly beautiful.
Thanks for reading, Geertje. Much appreciate it;-)
Tina
skinner_jennifer | January 24, 2011 - 02:07
Hi Tina,
what a really beautiful poem, I have to say in all
the other comments, I think it's all been said.
Jenny.
Silver Spun Sand | January 24, 2011 - 07:57
Thanks, so much Jenny;-)
Tina
Cavalcaderl | January 24, 2011 - 09:07
new Silver-Spun-Sand
Congrats: on the cherry!
and excellent way you have portrayed
the picture painting "Postcard Home"
the beach family and donkey's. Reminds me
to Blackpool once and also "The Golden Miles"
Donkey's daughter ride those were the days.
Well you are a painter too
That garden sounds beautiful you do.
To sit and paint in the summer air..
julie xx
Silver Spun Sand | January 24, 2011 - 09:42
Thank you for reading, Julie, and yes, it reminds me of 'The Golden Mile'. Mind you, at this time of the year in Blackpool, I guess it won't be that golden. Roll on summer!!
Have a good week;-)
Tina xx
fatboy74 | January 24, 2011 - 11:29
What a wonderful gift you have Tina of taking the reader to another time and place in your poems - nowhere more so than here, I think this poem taps into something that is in us all - but only works as well as it does because you do what you do as well as you erm ...do. :-)
Silver Spun Sand | January 24, 2011 - 11:37
Erm...thanks, fb;-) You have brought a smile to my lips this drab, Monday morning. Wish I was on that beach right now. Ah well, we can but dream.
Tina;-)
SundaysChild | January 24, 2011 - 19:53
Lovely piece Tina, you capture things so well.
barryj1 | January 24, 2011 - 21:12
I like the visual imagery and the directness... the way you get all five senses actively involved with the plot (i.e. no reason that a good poem shouldn't tell a perfectly 'good' story). Nice! Nice! Nice!
Silver Spun Sand | January 24, 2011 - 21:28
SundaysChild - many thanks. Hope things are well with you;-)
Tina
Silver Spun Sand | January 24, 2011 - 21:29
barry - thanks;-) You have quite a way with words yourself, and I appreciate them.
Tina
MistakenMagic | January 24, 2011 - 23:41
I love the repetition of 'how' - it creates an almost soothing rhythm, just like the ebb and flow of the tide. Well done on the cherry! :)
Magic xxx
Silver Spun Sand | January 25, 2011 - 17:13
Thanks, Magic...so very much. It's quite amazing, how 'small', almost inconsequential words help shape a poem, and I'm glad you noticed;-)
Tina xxx