On August 28, 2017

A reminder of all those beach holidays from long ago, when we were allowed to get sunburnt and everyone kept their tops on.

Sun melted ice cream
dripping sticky rivers down
sunburnt arms

Salt dried eyebrows frown
against the glare from
the too bright crystal sea

Dusty toes in
sand infested sandals
wriggle, impatient for the surf

Then, off across the Prom
down the dodgy steps onto
at last, the pebble sewn sand

A struggling, sliding trudge
soon claims a perfect patch
of English shore,
tide washed clean and ready just for us

Moats and castles, cars and seats
dams and rivers dug down to where
the energy runs out

Then down, skipping through the hissing surf
and into the bright, white seethe of foam
and the bone aching chill of a summer sea

Goose bumps towelled flat
warm squash and soggy tomato sandwiches
refuel the explorers of the deep

Shrimp nets poised, squinting eyes probe
the deep, cool mysteries of the pools
pausing only to dip and snare for a moment
some squirming denizen
closely examined from a careful distance
before its return

Seaweed strands slime and tug at ankles
pebbles roll between tiring toes
as the tide retreats before a trainee Canute

Sun-scorched, salt dried, sand scoured skin
reunited with crumpled tee shirt, pants and socks
back across the emptying beach
as the evening breeze tugs at sandcastle flags
backlit by the golden fade of sunset

Fish and chips and Tizer for a treat
bathed and soothed with Calomine
tired yet jammed so full of life
to bed until tomorrow
and another perfect day



© David Hermelin 2016

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