As a child by the sea, I lived a game,
In winters wild, where the waves would claim
The promenade, with a roaring might,
Chasing the shops in the fading light.
I’d dare the fence, the wave’s retreat,
A fleeting race on unsteady feet.
Most times I’d win, but once I stayed,
Forgot to run as the water swayed.
A crash, a pull, legs lifted high,
Salt in my nose, a stinging sky.
I clung to the rail with aching arms,
A wet uniform my only charm.
In summer, the world would bloom anew,
Candyfloss skies, and a laughter hue.
Dogs splashed, children squealed in the sand,
The fairground’s music, a lively band.
But at night, when the fires burned low,
I’d sneak to the beach, the shadows aglow.
Couples would dance, their laughter free,
Yet no one ever invited me.
Winters were grey, a sodden embrace,
Summers were bright, a carnival’s face.
By the sea, life shifted, loud then still,
Each wave a memory, a whisper, a thrill.
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