White Holding Sands

There’s pebbling in
on a rocky wave,
a falling forth, a
rushing toward
a holding shore.

There’s wonder,
wondrous wonder,
in the tumbling,
in a steady rush
of a wild-watery spin.

Grand deliveries
deposit the delightful
on white holding sands.
White holding sands
hold fast the treasures,
a keeper’s embrace.

Treasures gleam and
glisten in gorgeous glow
as roll-down-beach foam
takes off and goes.

The shell-keeping shore
knows more will come in,
more shall surely show
with high tide’s ebb,
with low tide’s flow,
for with tidal turns
in sea’s soothing promise,
there’s always pebbling in
on a rocky wave.

There’s pebbling in
on a rocky wave,
a falling forth, a
rushing toward
a holding shore.

With ocean-wooing wishes,
who could ask for any more?

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2 comments

  1. The endless cycle of tides and waves depositing fresh treasures in the sand keeps beachcombers returning. You capture it nicely here.

    Like

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