#sandcastles - Hello Poetry

Sandcastles On the seashore, Exquisite view Promising more — But the waves always return, Smashing dreams, I swore I’d protect, No chore — How do I build a moat around my hopes and dreams Galore!

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Aug 17, 2025

Aug 17, 2025 at 4:15 PM UTC

bekahalle

Sandcastles

Sandcastles On the seashore, Exquisite view Promising more — But the waves always return, Smashing dreams, I swore I’d protect, No chore — How do I build a moat around my hopes and dreams Galore!

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May 15, 2021

May 15, 2021 at 11:09 AM UTC

Picture a man’s solitary stroll on a sandy seaside, Early time of day, just a short time after low tide, Water almost calm, gentle waves lapping the shore, Early morning sun brilliantly blazing the horizon. Feel the wonderful breeze…smell the salty ocean air… See, hear the jaegers, gulls and terns flying without a care. The soothing sounds of the wind, water and gulls Are suddenly intruded upon by the sad cries of a small child. "What's wrong?" the man kindly asks, as he kneels next to her. "Someone knocked down my sandcastle," is her reply, tears flowing. "Don't worry little one, I'll help you build another." To the little girl's delight, the man smooths away the sand, In preparation for a newer, bigger, better sandcastle. Soon his concentration is broken by frantic cries for help. Looking out over the water, he sees a tiny figure, Desperately clinging to one of the buoys marking the deep-water. Running to the water’s edge, he clearly sees another little girl, Close in age to the first, whose swimming has carried her too far, And now she perilously clings to the buoy, unable to swim back. The man returns to the first girl And continues to build the sandcastle. "The girl in the water is safe for now", he assures himself. "As long as I can hear her cries for help, I know her head is above water. Besides, this other little girl's problem came first. As soon as I am done with her sandcastle, I will most certainly rescue the other one..." And so, the man does build the sandcastle, One more magnificent than the first. All the while he builds, he continues to hear The desperate cries from the second little girl. By sandcastle’s finish, her cries have become weaker, less frequent. "Are you happy now?" he asks the first little girl. "Oh yes," she cries, "thank you sir...." As she joyfully dances around her new sandcastle. With that, the man springs into action, Just as she slips off the buoy and goes under. He reaches her in record time with all the strength he can muster, Expertly positioning her on her back with her face above water. Wasting no time or effort he makes his way back to shore, As more and more people gather to cheer on the savior. He gives CPR - after several coughs, water clears lungs, a life is not lost. As if on cue, the rescue team arrives, transporting her to hospital. Extremely grateful parents and the city honor him as a hero. So what say you? Is such a man deserving of honor? How would the parents react If they knew the rest of the story? Especially since he was the lifeguard assigned to beach patrol! Now, friends, after considering all of this fuss, The question bears asking, what about us? Are we making sure of more important things, Or are we busy building castles in the sand?

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Oct 25, 2019

Oct 25, 2019 at 11:19 AM UTC

poetry2go

Castles in the Sand

Picture a man’s solitary stroll on a sandy seaside, Early time of day, just a short time after low tide, Water almost calm, gentle waves lapping the shore, Early morning sun brilliantly blazing the horizon. Feel the wonderful breeze…smell the salty ocean air… See, hear the jaegers, gulls and terns flying without a care. The soothing sounds of the wind, water and gulls Are suddenly intruded upon by the sad cries of a small child. "What's wrong?" the man kindly asks, as he kneels next to her. "Someone knocked down my sandcastle," is her reply, tears flowing. "Don't worry little one, I'll help you build another." To the little girl's delight, the man smooths away the sand, In preparation for a newer, bigger, better sandcastle. Soon his concentration is broken by frantic cries for help. Looking out over the water, he sees a tiny figure, Desperately clinging to one of the buoys marking the deep-water. Running to the water’s edge, he clearly sees another little girl, Close in age to the first, whose swimming has carried her too far, And now she perilously clings to the buoy, unable to swim back. The man returns to the first girl And continues to build the sandcastle. "The girl in the water is safe for now", he assures himself. "As long as I can hear her cries for help, I know her head is above water. Besides, this other little girl's problem came first. As soon as I am done with her sandcastle, I will most certainly rescue the other one..." And so, the man does build the sandcastle, One more magnificent than the first. All the while he builds, he continues to hear The desperate cries from the second little girl. By sandcastle’s finish, her cries have become weaker, less frequent. "Are you happy now?" he asks the first little girl. "Oh yes," she cries, "thank you sir...." As she joyfully dances around her new sandcastle. With that, the man springs into action, Just as she slips off the buoy and goes under. He reaches her in record time with all the strength he can muster, Expertly positioning her on her back with her face above water. Wasting no time or effort he makes his way back to shore, As more and more people gather to cheer on the savior. He gives CPR - after several coughs, water clears lungs, a life is not lost. As if on cue, the rescue team arrives, transporting her to hospital. Extremely grateful parents and the city honor him as a hero. So what say you? Is such a man deserving of honor? How would the parents react If they knew the rest of the story? Especially since he was the lifeguard assigned to beach patrol! Now, friends, after considering all of this fuss, The question bears asking, what about us? Are we making sure of more important things, Or are we busy building castles in the sand?

51

You show her how to make sandcastles on the beach. The tides like playful children rush up the sands and back again with a soft shush. She looks intently as you dig the soft sand and fill the small plastic bucket. The little ***** in your adult hand seems smaller still as you start to fill. She seems eager to take her turn to fill and pat the top. You watch as she pats it extra hard, then kneels back to watch. You, like some craftsman of years before, upturn the bucket and let it stand. She stares and sits on her haunches excitedly. You lift the bucket like a magician performing a magic trick, hoping the sand will stay and not fall away. You lift the bucket off and the first tower stands in the damp sands. How pleased she seems: claps her small hands, bounces up and down, and lights up her eyes, beneath the summer sun and cloudless skies. © 3 minutes ago, Terry Collett

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Mar 23, 2018

Mar 23, 2018 at 3:44 AM UTC

TerryCollett

Sandcastle with a Child.

You show her how to make sandcastles on the beach. The tides like playful children rush up the sands and back again with a soft shush. She looks intently as you dig the soft sand and fill the small plastic bucket. The little ***** in your adult hand seems smaller still as you start to fill. She seems eager to take her turn to fill and pat the top. You watch as she pats it extra hard, then kneels back to watch. You, like some craftsman of years before, upturn the bucket and let it stand. She stares and sits on her haunches excitedly. You lift the bucket like a magician performing a magic trick, hoping the sand will stay and not fall away. You lift the bucket off and the first tower stands in the damp sands. How pleased she seems: claps her small hands, bounces up and down, and lights up her eyes, beneath the summer sun and cloudless skies. © 3 minutes ago, Terry Collett

48

a stabbing shiver corrodes my limbs goosebumps lick my heart a fat cramp strokes my lips and terror waves my mind freezingly hot blood flushes twisted nerves sweet foul shudder makes all memories awake blurry visions of happiness worm into cutting blade hissing a haunting realization: that it is too late. naivety suggests a joyful brand new start but the naked present screams that you grew apart

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Jun 20, 2016

Jun 20, 2016 at 3:05 AM UTC

phantasmagoria

Sandcastle

a stabbing shiver corrodes my limbs goosebumps lick my heart a fat cramp strokes my lips and terror waves my mind freezingly hot blood flushes twisted nerves sweet foul shudder makes all memories awake blurry visions of happiness worm into cutting blade hissing a haunting realization: that it is too late. naivety suggests a joyful brand new start but the naked present screams that you grew apart

16

There was a void. Then there was light. There was his voice. His touch which made me quiver. His fragrance that lingered Like the dew every morning Like the dreams that kept coming back Like the waves that washed away sandcastles Like the wind which bent the daffodils on the sidewalk Like a phone that kept ringing. Like the letters left unanswered. The birthdays that kept coming. His voice rang in my head. Like a beautiful symphony that would be the end of me if it stopped. A thousand pictures lying on the floor Do I even recognize us anymore? Like seasons that come one after the next Like the unassuming traffic i see through the window of a hotel In an unknown town On an unknown date The calendar has failed me I need to stop tasting you on my tongue Like a pill I can't swallow Like a high I can't get Like a breakfast in a picturesque town, left unfinished Like words of a foreign language I can't seem to pronounce correctly. Every time I close my eyes, I think I forget. And then there is a void.

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Jun 9, 2015

Jun 9, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC

sukanya-rajan

The Void

There was a void. Then there was light. There was his voice. His touch which made me quiver. His fragrance that lingered Like the dew every morning Like the dreams that kept coming back Like the waves that washed away sandcastles Like the wind which bent the daffodils on the sidewalk Like a phone that kept ringing. Like the letters left unanswered. The birthdays that kept coming. His voice rang in my head. Like a beautiful symphony that would be the end of me if it stopped. A thousand pictures lying on the floor Do I even recognize us anymore? Like seasons that come one after the next Like the unassuming traffic i see through the window of a hotel In an unknown town On an unknown date The calendar has failed me I need to stop tasting you on my tongue Like a pill I can't swallow Like a high I can't get Like a breakfast in a picturesque town, left unfinished Like words of a foreign language I can't seem to pronounce correctly. Every time I close my eyes, I think I forget. And then there is a void.

28

Built on the Berkley model Paid for with mothers essential oils ...a bitumen And a flower blooms from Medicine Rock Like a ballerina As the Old Man weeps joyfully

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Sep 18, 2014

Sep 18, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC

aaronmullin-fb

Never infinite

Built on the Berkley model Paid for with mothers essential oils ...a bitumen And a flower blooms from Medicine Rock Like a ballerina As the Old Man weeps joyfully

6

She stands on the sandy beach Her hands shake; she’s afraid She steels herself with a breath And into the ocean she starts to wade Her brother jumps in, dauntlessly “The sharks will get you!” he jokes She ignores him, she knows the truth. Sharks don’t attack unprovoked She stares at the endless blue Who knows what really lies beneath? She walks with slow, hesitant steps Into the ocean till she’s in waist deep A brush against her leg, she jumps, Shrieks and falls under, A giant wave hits the beach, She sits up and looks in wonder On the ocean floor, a starfish sleeps Its fins moves, she’s fascinated A crab goes by with its sideways gait, By the busy shore, she’s captivated Tiny coloured gems shine on the beach As if just waiting to be discovered Shells of all shapes and sizes, Waiting to be kept and treasured. A small wave splashes her gently, Sand and salt water everywhere, Nothing to be scared of; she decides She’s found her perfect spot right there. No need to go any further Into the ocean; into the unknown Her friends make sandcastles nearby, And she sits there happily, on her own.

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Sep 1, 2014

Sep 1, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC

sonali-sethi

Into The Ocean

She stands on the sandy beach Her hands shake; she’s afraid She steels herself with a breath And into the ocean she starts to wade Her brother jumps in, dauntlessly “The sharks will get you!” he jokes She ignores him, she knows the truth. Sharks don’t attack unprovoked She stares at the endless blue Who knows what really lies beneath? She walks with slow, hesitant steps Into the ocean till she’s in waist deep A brush against her leg, she jumps, Shrieks and falls under, A giant wave hits the beach, She sits up and looks in wonder On the ocean floor, a starfish sleeps Its fins moves, she’s fascinated A crab goes by with its sideways gait, By the busy shore, she’s captivated Tiny coloured gems shine on the beach As if just waiting to be discovered Shells of all shapes and sizes, Waiting to be kept and treasured. A small wave splashes her gently, Sand and salt water everywhere, Nothing to be scared of; she decides She’s found her perfect spot right there. No need to go any further Into the ocean; into the unknown Her friends make sandcastles nearby, And she sits there happily, on her own.

32