Bucket Full of Love
In his damp, snail smelly, back yard, water boiled in a vat.
"Hurry honey", said Grandpa, "the tide has just gone out".
In my six year old mind, we were in for a "great big treat".
Willingly, I'd fill my bucket full with sand crabs we'd all eat.
Overcast dark sky and dank fishy cold wind didn't dampen
spirits while scanning wet sand for holes that were sunken.
Intently digging, then oh so thrilled, I yelled,"I found one!"
Clunk! Into my little tin sand bucket it fell; one prize won.
Sadly looking, seagulls mocking, I'd managed only eight.
Grandpa smiled, dumped them in the vat with, "GREAT"!
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