By: Morgan Swain
Sprinkle, squish between my toes, The smell of ocean to my nose. I can feel each grain of sand, It falls from air into my hand. The shells I find along the shore, Picked up by birds that fly and soar. They sparkle like the ocean’s waves, And carry sand from all the lakes. I walk along the tip of the sea, That’s where my feet leave prints to be. I walk all the way to the end of the land, The land that holds this beautiful sand.