I love your vast ocean spread
I love your yellow beach-ball sun, proving heliocentrism.
I love your pencil-thin steadying horizon.
I love your warm gentle sand massage between my toes.
I love your squawky sea gulls at feast.
I love your squealy giggly children, every one sounding
just like one of my own when they invented beach games
and never tired of salty skin and sand-logged bathing suit bottoms.
I love your echoes of memory at play: Daddy, Daddy watch this!
Mommy, Mommy look at me!
I love your silvery green dune grass
waving
swaying
singing
working to keep my beach intact.
And now that our cottage and our bodies are all properly de-loused, and everything is sqeaky clean, I even love the lice who came to visit in our beautiful granddaughter's long tresses. I can only wonder how the lice couple marched onto Noah's ark of salvation—perhaps hiding, burrowed into a camel's tough tufted curly topknot?
I love you, Godde
Thank you
