deepundergroundpoetry.com
Grace's dreams on the Sand
drawing figures on the sand
brothers and sisters father and mother
a pretty house with lots of rooms
and a house each for the cats and dogs
flower gardens the little girl drew
and vegetable patches and orchards too
mother could sell them at the bazaar
the children could help to pick the fruits
Little Grace drew herself in
long billowing gown down to her ankle
bought with the money she collected
from the money tree by the wishing well
the tide came in and washed them all
the drawings all over the sand
sad child watched with teary eyes
her dream home wiped off by the waves
Grace went home all sad but tanned
time to fill her rumbling tummy
tomorrow she would draw again
scratching wonders on the shifting sand
Drawing her dream.
*this poem was entered in a competition here. Thank you for reading*
Published 14th Mar 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Anonymous
- Edited 15th Feb 2025 10:45pm
14th Mar 2016 2:21am
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14th Mar 2016 4:41am
I loved drawing in the sand as a child and I have an active imagination. The beach at times was my canvas. Love those childhood beach visits. Thanks Mlavender for reading.
Sweet dreams... if only life's dreams could be redrawn after the tide rushes in to clean the slate...
JJ
JJ
14th Mar 2016 4:44am
14th Mar 2016 9:32am
wallyroo92...Thank you for dropping by and reading as well as leaving such kind comments.:)
15th Mar 2016 00:53am
One of my favorite poems is Euclid:
Old Euclid drew a circle
On a sand-beach long ago.
He bounded and enclosed it
With angles thus and so.
His set of solemn greybeards
Nodded and argued much
Of arc and circumference,
Diameter and such.
A silent child stood by them
From morning until noon
Because they drew such charming
Round pictures of the moon.
~ Vachel Lindsay
This reminded me of that.
Old Euclid drew a circle
On a sand-beach long ago.
He bounded and enclosed it
With angles thus and so.
His set of solemn greybeards
Nodded and argued much
Of arc and circumference,
Diameter and such.
A silent child stood by them
From morning until noon
Because they drew such charming
Round pictures of the moon.
~ Vachel Lindsay
This reminded me of that.
15th Mar 2016 10:29am
Thank you Ahavati...to be spoken of in the same breath as such is honour indeed.:)
15th Mar 2016 5:52pm
16th Mar 2016 10:13pm
16th Mar 2016 10:38pm
Children are easily disappointed, seems to me, but it doesn't take long for their imaginations to recover. Adults are more inclined to throw in the towel. Glad to see you're still dreaming Grace, and doing it so well. Loved this.
27th Mar 2016 7:16am
A very sweet and tender poem about childhood, Grace! There is so much of simple joys and fondest dreams within these verses of yours, and all of them beautiful. It never fails to amaze me how much our childhood dreams stay with us all throughout our life... sometimes taking many forms but always remaining with us even if we sometimes do not recognize them. From one dreamer to another, keep up the great poetic work my dear friend! You have wondrous talent. :)
