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Apr 2012
As I sit pondering, at a sight so rare.
With all kinds of pebbles, spread wall to wall there.
Not a speck of sand at all, can be seen here on a beach so rare.
The object of the climb down here, was not to fall.
As waves of white, crash to the site.

One is quite enthralled.
By the power of the might, God has given all the right.
For winds and waves so strong, to set against the pebbles throng.
The smell of salt fills the air, seeing the sights of seaweed is quite fair.
Clouds in the sky just linger over there, barely covering the mountain tops where,
Birds in flight soar below,

Oh!

But where is the eagle grand, How he flies far above the land.
The boats sit moored not far from land, all is here on Pebble Beach sand.
Pamela Loykowski
Written by
Pamela Loykowski
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