A Monument To My Thoughts

I sit in the sand With my knees in my hands Just staring out at the sea Contemplating The meaning of life And maybe the meaning of me For all that I've done And all that I've won Is that the meaning of life To live and to build To follow the guild With a family and a wife I picked up some wood And then as I stood I swirled it around in the sand I drew up a picture A plan for a fixture Then gathered some sand in my hand I mounded and moulded I creased and I folded I piled the grains way up high I cut and I sliced I poked and I diced Then held out my thumb for my eye I sculpted some turrets Then planted some pennants With the seaweed that lay all around I marveled at how My hands could endow Such a sculpture upon sandy ground I returned to my place And sat in my space Where I wrote this poetic gem As the waves crashed ashore I thought about more And how poetry is my Zen I can model some clay Then write troubles away All with the use of my hands. I can also defer To the grounds by the shore And build castles out of the sands Rockman :-) Written for the contest by Gail Doyle, "Sandcastles By The Seashore".