Salted Memories
Salted memories of childhood.
Bitter taste of tears.
Father teaching me to swim.
Overcoming my fears.
Searching for cockles at the beach.
Little bubbles in the sand.
Scrape with the garden rake.
Then dig in with your hand.
Periwinkle soup on Friday night.
With their curly little tail.
Flip the lid off with a needle,
to expose the little snail.
Oysters were a special treat.
I loved their slithery slide.
Salted memories in my mouth.
It made me want to dive.
Crab claws from the fishermen,
hawling their baskets in.
Daddy would do a deal with them,
as we were in for a swim.
Salted memories from years ago.
Bitter taste of tears.
I miss my home and always will.
Forever down the years.
Copyright © Jean Murray | Year Posted 2016
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