Poem 155 - On the Beach

Standing on the sand, letting my feet get buried in sand

Waiting for the waves that come, holding my sisters hand

A huge waves, makes water come up till our knee

Finally we sit far, fully wet, thanks to the sea

I begin to collect shells, but I find one, makes me throw all other shells back

That one big shell in newspaper I do pack

Carefully keeping it in the picnic basket, I look at it once more

So beautiful, so smooth and to think that I found it on the shore

My sister likes it too, the strange colors on it

I close the basket and down I sit

Letting the beach's soft sand slip through my fingers, brown and cold

The sand gleaming when the sun shines, pretending to be gold

Finally we sit in the car, It is time to go back home

But there is no place like home, whether yours is in Washington or Rome

I look at the shell one last time, its pinkish color giving it a strange effect

It was a really good shell that looked nice and perfect

-Gaurang Rao

Written for - http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

and - http://carryontuesdayprompt.blogspot.com/