The Beach at Noon

Here is a poem by my fifteen year old godson.

Never has the breeze sounded so caressing.

It shall never be as beautiful as this sunny day.

This beach can envelope my soul,

until I myself am gone completely.

What if I could fly with the seagulls or swim with the fish?

How free and fanciful I would be.

Sadness does not mean a thing, just a whisper.

Tears staining my cheeks,

I can't stop them.

Rolling into the epitome of melancholy.

A crab is nibbling at my toes.

How funny it is that we are both enjoying the same air,

the same rolling waves hitting the shore.

When our time together is done,

he will wash away into his watery home,

and I will return to my never ending life.

Strength can be sustained if I only drop,

back into the soft welcome of the sand.

I could go with him but that would seem foolish.

So goodbye beach, water, crab.

I hope your splendor will remain here as it does in my heart.

Warm, touching, ending


By Connor Laughland

(Artwork: Joaquin Sorolla, Beach on the noon)