Sunday, 22 February 2015

My secret place


Tiny waves tingle my feet as I approach the water. Water whips at my body as I glide to the open while seagulls soar above my head.


Bites at my cold wet arms and rips through my hair with its insane blows at the world creating havoc.


Sand flicks at my eyes before disappearing into the sea and becoming goey, sloppy, disgusting mud.

Sand dunes:

Unleash their sand armies into wind to have never ending battles.


Blackening and disintegrating, the trees stand there helplessly, as their wood sizzles away in the boiling sun.


Soaked, weeping rocks sit there trying to dry in the sun; sharp, flat and strong.


Water floods into my mouth. Salt blows in the breeze. Fun sweeps into my nostrils.

Where am I?

1 comment:

  1. Wow Carys! That poem was SOOO cool! I like all of your description words, and it really puts an image in my head!
    'Soaked, Weeping Rocks' was a great discription. And how you said 'unleash their and armies' with the sand dunes part was really awesome, too! It reminds me of when I go to Taylor's Mistake (my favourite beach).
    Really nice! Keep on writing your awesome stories!