0R6A2029

filey with the whisper of sping, people and the beach, east coast england

 

Before springs wisftful palm opened

When little shoots could barely show

Their secrets in the distant eyes of sun

We drove to where you hear her whisper

The gentle blues of humming winter seas

Where we walk in perfect sanctuary

With only the devout as little figurines

Diminished in the beckoning haze

We recreate our finest memories, those Polaroid days

And even though we still feel the sAme

We talk the footsteps as our fathers did

With ice cream smiles upon a giants shoulders

Running in and out towards the sea

As if we are the moon that draws the curtains of the tide

As if we have the world all on our side

They run their fingers on the weathered words of old fishing boats

And search the shore for charms to keep our pockets lucky

We feel the cyan cold upon our feet

We skin the pebbles and the ocean swallows

We run upon the sand and sketch our names with driftwood

Where all our generations look upon and smile

As if one day we might be their together

All Part of a beautiful symmetry

Done