The Strand

She paints a perfect picture As she trawls the rocky strand A muscle here a barnacle there Enough to fill both hands . Two odd socks for one at least will decorate her cast Her hair tied up as best dad can Which probably won't last . Bent double as she picks seashells Her pants tag proudly showing Her bag of shells light up her face And leave her innocence glowing . She takes a moment to herself To fix her favourite pose She sips her drinka frown-filled thought Her poem to compose . She spies a group of ducklings Braving every wave Excitement flairs as help she does Each little one to save . Her gentle hands embrace each one The highlight of her day Her wondrous sight at each ones plight As she helps them on their way A day at the strand with Aoibha ...oh and the Ducks