Christine Richings

THE SHORE IT BECKONS

The shore it beckons come, come sit down, take off your shoes and socks, leave them high and dry.

The shore it beckons come, come put on your coat, bring a rod, stand and fish a while.

The shore it beckons come, come feel the sand between your toes, soft, warm, wet and cold

The shore it beckons come, come bring a boat, hear the grinding it makes before it starts to float.

The shore it beckons come, come put on a suit and mask, slap, slap down to see an underwater glee.

The shore it beckons come, come bucket and spade in tiny hands, make a castle oh so grand. The shore it beckons come, come see the destruction I can make, hear me roar.

The shore it beckons come, come choose a rock, close your eyes, sit in peace a while.

The shore it beckons come, come pitch a tent amongst my dunes, watch the sun go down.

The shore it beckons come, come walk along, weave your way around my bays, treading paths of old.

- Christine Richings