Our Sands

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.

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