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Breakers and Beachcombers

The sound of the breakers As they hit the shore Bringing gifts to the sands As youngsters explore Coloured shells Smoothed stones The wanting Beach-comb Driftwood shapes Crafted on the wave Some drift forever While some are saved But this bearer of gifts Can deal a different hand As unwanted goods Fester our sands From discarded waste To the oiled dead Its the wanton garbage Our beaches dread For the sound of the breakers Natures watery souls And the volumes of gifts Beachcombers goal http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature3.php

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Sara Kendrick

Date: 7/10/2009 1:06:00 PM

Love the writing. We're going to the beach soon. I always look forward to collecting shells. We don't see much trash. I guess someone looks after getting up anything that is trash or garbage. Sara

Carolyn Devonshire

Date: 7/10/2009 12:27:00 PM

Well, James, we were on the same page again! I just this week wrote a poem that I haven't posted; it deals with Mother Nature taking revenge for the despoiling of the oceans and beaches. Excellent write, James! Love you, Carolyn (I think the "breakers" in Ormond Beach are calling my name. Can you hear them, too?)