On the Eighth Day
There is a beach filled with sand
Every few seconds the ocean tries grabbing it using its hand
As the wave breaks
Watery fingers allow the stream to take
Particle strands a foundation for one’s dream castle with a lake
Are retrieved by this natural wake
A friendly Godly gesture to build a moat
Giving the elements the final vote
A foot image appears
Then immediately disappears
Marking a special moment in time
Maybe a loving proposal requiring wine
Leaving a bubbly imprint
Blowing, popping shining tint
A child with a plastic shovel
Digs a hole where it was once level
Watching the water fill the hole
Evaporating from heat overpowering the cold
This is how the world revolves
Spinning around a mystery to be solved
A daily constant mission
No end in sight only continent division
None of which are a human’s decision
This body can be used to get clean
Or played with while laughing a joyful scream
Having a salty taste
There is no waste
Quenching a desperate thirst
Receiving a blessing not a curse
Separating many cultures
Soothing those traveling wanting to be vultures
Handling the rapids with care
When nearly bare
Cooling off a pleasant dare
Swimming in a natural tease
Allowing the rolling flirting as it please
There are those
Who watch it flows
Hearing ghostly bellows stating ‘there she blows’
And it is then
We need to defend
This heavenly grace
Moving at its own pace
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
