Beach
By Paul Hobbs
Step after barefoot step,
leaving impressions in the damp sand.
The cold lapping waves gently caressing my feet,
and teasing my toes.
The glistening moonlight,
like silver on the black sea,
the shimmering silver globe breaking up
with the movement of the tide.
My soul is soaring,revelling in the beauty of nature.
The peace of the moment,
a moment to be shared with a loved one.
I raise and offer my hand,
no one is there to take it,
no one is there to embrace,
no one is there to kiss,
my hand remains empty.
The impressions fade,The moment is passed,
a lost opportunity in the tide of time.
Author's note
Written during a recent coastal walk,Isle of Wight, Shanklin 2009
This poem has been requested 54 times since 11 June 2010
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