Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2016
Of course that time was ours
and yours, before the end,
when the beach was busy and the
***** went flying and the
sand stuck to the top of our toes.
That’s what I think of when the sun is shining,
and the rain brings sweet-shop smiles,
cobbles and chips, salt and vinegar soaked.

Nothing smells like you, and the words lie too
and the shirts and the shoes are the only proof
left-over that the sand and the
cobbles and the chips,
and the laughs and the smiles were there.
Martha O'Brien
Written by
Martha O'Brien  UK
(UK)   
274
   Aeerdna, Stephan and Brother Jimmy
Please log in to view and add comments on poems