The Beach – Eduard Dantes

In a perfect setting;
Hot feet treading cool water
While the flesh and fluids
Of melons and coconuts
Soothe and sweeten
Parched throat and dried voice,

Whose name will you draw
In fine white sand,
That crashing waves
Of clear aquamarine water
And frothy surf
May carry around the world
Those atoms making up
Your precious grains of dust?

Whose name will it be
That spirits lost at sea
Shall forever whisper into the air,
Beckoning him or her
To a beach
Lost and forgotten in time?


his name rhymes with ‘mince’. He’s rarely without a notebook and can usually be found next to the closest bottle of red wine. Previously a writer for The Roehampton Lane Journal.

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