Shovels and Pails

A poem about growth.

Beautiful liquid eyes,
Matching the sea beside us;
The sand is warm.

Our castle is getting higher,
As we dig the moat together,
Making the walls a little stronger,
Knowing that it does not matter,
Whose muck is a little wetter,
Because it is only getting better;
The warmth of the sun will set it.

Inside of the walls of sand we sit,
Watching the tide slowly creep near,
Is when it becomes even more clear;
Our walls really are the strongest,
And we will be able to sit here the longest.
Watching the water wash all around us;
We are warm and dry,
with time to rest.

My hand is in yours;
Feeling the scratch of your skin,
We are both new and old,
Meek and bold,
Fragile and safe;
As we sit in our heaven.