Sandcastles
A sun-bronzed boy played happily unaware of what was to be. In his mind, he had a dream his skin shone with its sunscreen cream. On that beach just had he planned there rose a castle made of sand. And on each corner, a tower did sport topped with flags his mother had bought. The sea crept up that sandy shore soon was lapping at his castle door. To stop the sea he tried and tried but no man can ever turn the tide. No king Canute nor Hercules can change one of life's certainties. The sun swept into his castle grand reduced it to a heap of sand. A tear ran down his suntanned face mum, he cried I hate this place. His mother smiled and smoothed his sorrow said we'll build a better one tomorrow.
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James Gordon
retired truck driver now author/wordsmith
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