The Strand

From an early age you gave up so much.
Nothing was ever too much for us. Yet you would go without.
I see your greatness, your strength, your beauty.
It’s okay to be loved.
Let’s go for a walk.

You challenge the wind with your fiery curls.
You try and keep it behind your ears.
I have never seen a lock of hair as precious or as bright since I held yours between my little fingers tight.

I see your soft face that has never changed.
You glance back every few steps to check if I’m alright.
But, I stay behind. I like to trace your footprints.
I like to follow your stride.

Then I see your perfect hand that’s waving at me to come.
That same hand that wiped my tearstained face.
Wants me to come and see the view.
See the view with you.

We stop and watch the waves, crash on the rocks.
It’s silent still when it repeats.
The white surf fades away-
Like a calm day leaving.
I know you like it here I can hear it in your breathing deep and clear.

Even when it starts to rain, it rains good.
Soaking the land, the sand damp between our toes.
We come here most evenings enjoying the seasons change our beloved beach.
But, it’s getting late.

With passing tides, the evening takes all the sun.
It makes such water seem so pure of-glee!
With every moment spent with thee.
My rock, my mentor, my friend, my mother.

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