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The Beach

 

 

The smell of the sea is all around

Sand and windbreaks everywhere;

White bodies laying on towels

And little children running bare.

 

Suntan lotion to stop the burning,

Folded hankies to protect the head;

Grannies paddling with dresses held high,

Some men, their braces have shed.

 

Sandcastles with flags on top

And seashells on the side;

Busy spades digging big pits,

Perfect places for Granddads to hide.

 

Groups of boys playing football

For some the beach is a place to play;

Mums taking it easy in deckchairs,

They go in hope of a restful day.

 

 For me a beach is all these things

And many more as well;

But when you are completely alone

I understand now, a beach can be hell.

 

To see so many people happy,

Families making their own kind of fun;

I've no one to share a smile with,

All I can do is soak up the sun.

 

There's no fun in jumping the waves

And no-one to share my ice-cream;

So if you see me on the beach,

Walk on by, I'm lost in a dream.

 

© Heather Rimmer 1979