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
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