Beachcombing

Her I go again. Whoops. I mean here I go again. The Freudian slip has been left in in the spirit of artistic honesty.

Because, once again, it is Cyranny who has put ideas into my head (and, indirectly, Fandango) and this is what came out.

**

Nothing planned?Take my hand
The sand
Between our toes
Where the sea meets the land
We will join
Understand
What no other ever
Knows

Touch my palm. Take my arm
The calm
Beneath this sun
Where the wind and the waves
To each other
Are slaves
So you and I will be
One

**

14 thoughts on “Beachcombing

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