Of Sandcastles and Moats

The breakfast gong was resounding,
to the smell of bacon and eggs,
to which the guests were following
bearing sunburnt arms and white legs.

With butter curls on the table
and tea in its squat silver pot,
“Help yourself, now, to cereal”
and “don’t touch the plate ‘cos its hot.”

The endless void of breakfasting
and the sea, fast, was going out,
boxed in tight around the table,
dolly and me would often shout,

“We really want to go now, please,
we have finished our toast and tea.”
and while they supped on one last cup
we ran to the beach to be free.

To begin our new adventure
with ample pockets full of fun
hard Fruit Gums by the tube full
gone all sticky in the hot sun.

Mandy and Bunty book stories
that delighted us as we read,
a fishing net, a diving mask,
and a hat for poor dolly’s head.

Sometimes we would become pirates
diving for treasure in the sea
or live deep down in Atlantis
with dolphins and dolly and me.

Armed with just a fishing net
when the rocks came into our view,
we’d chase across them carefully
and become explorers anew.

With monster crabs and dinosaurs
all waiting to nibble our toes,
onward, onward, we would scramble
as far as dolly’s legs could go.

Then back to build a vast fortress
decorated with many shells,
and lie an eat an ice lolly
as above the silver gulls yell.

Then with our wooden lolly stick
we’d finish our castle of sand
and sit and watch the sea come in
holding tight to dolly’s small hand.

Reese 030 (2).jpg

Copyright RMC November 2017



4 thoughts on “Of Sandcastles and Moats

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