There's a bench at the beach,
Where I frequently go.
Where I sit and I look at the sea,
It's a favorite spot.
I consider it mine,
There's no charge for the view; it is free.
When I was quite young,
I'd go with my Mom.
And we'd frolic and play on that shore,
We'd dig in the sand,
Build castles with walls.
And gather up sea-shells galore.
Now I go there to think,
And recall best I can.
Some wonderful days of the past,
Lest you think I'm morose.
Or down in the dumps,
Be assured I'm not even down-cast.
For my mem'ries are blest,
They're pleasant and sweet.
Smiles often creep over my face,
Any bad or sad thoughts,
Have faded with time.
And by now are fully erased.
Though now I've grown old,
I still sit on that bench.
And I think of my Mama and me,
Things I wish I had done.
Words I wish I had said,
But now I tell it all to the sea.


By Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
copyright 2000





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