A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
A ways away,
Where we sail to when the wind is high
And the tide is strong,
Lay our private sands;
Tucked away from the world,
Protected by looming giants of stone
And blanketed by the bluest waters,
The waves cool on a hot day
And warm when the air nips at the skin
Like a ravenous dog.
It is our sanctuary
And our paradise,
And you can’t have it.
Words Worth While 