Dad said “it pays to be selective”
as he urged us to another spot.
The golden rays of sunshine arcing overhead
bouncing off azure waves rolling,
as we trod diligently on.
“Here. Stop here” was urgently warbled
bags dropped, towels whipped and placed,
parents sunning themselves,
Turning rosy red with hints of crimson burns.
We kids, build castles in glorious sand
with towers high and a moat deep.
Until that shout for lunch.
Sandwiches eaten
plain but not ordinary as peppered with sea salt.
The day flows and ebbs with the tide
hours seeming like minutes.
Finally off, the castles built fall at last
sinking silently into sand
leaving no impression.