I like watching those tiny tots at the beach.
It’s kind of listening to the
ballads.
Like the slow build up when
someone strums up,
They come, holding on to the lil
finger of
Parents or rather these days
Mostly, grandparents.
Casting eyes here and there
Kicking sand everywhere..
Now you see them tugging
On the hands and command "
come come".
It’s a joy to watch them trot
Around wriggly giggly beaming at
Everyone and amused at
Themselves, mainly.
And then, cued on a crescendo,
They would just take off,
Leaving the hapless parents on a
Chasing spree spreading
Cheers and sunshine around.
Like spirits sans shackles,
Lifting above far and beyond.