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Thursday, January 11, 2024

PRECIOUS MEMORIES


 

Sounds were coming from the Sea,

   As the tide races across the sands –

The midday sun was beating down,

   And we walked holding hands.

 

But the day raced on by . . .

   As light dances from the moon –

She lays her head on my shoulder,

   As the gentle winds sang a tune.

 

Something about the crashing waves

   It’s like a natural high –

Listening to children laugh and play,

   Such joy makes one want to cry.

 

All those days we spent by the Sea –

Are precious memories of her and me!

 

Epaphroditus© January 11, 2024

 

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