I walk in the sand

I walk in the wind,
Waves touch my feet.

I walk in the fog,
Paying no attention to the people I meet,

Running along the beach,
Tripping on a log.

I find two stray dogs,
Who have a stick or a bone each.

They come to me,
Commencing to lick my feet.

I walk in the sand,
Ebb kicking at my heels
Where, seashells turn and reel

I walk on the beach,
A love of passing time,
A love I do beseech [!]

Give me a good glass of kosher wine
Or a tasse of Arabian tea,
And a Bagpipe to play,

Bellowing out along thew sweet sand;
My lazy feet shall follow.

By Sheila Tanguy Tracey
September 19th 1994