Running down a hill gives you lots of joy.
And who doesn’t like beaches with very little noise?
Even though the water already drained out.
The sand is still there to play in about.
You walk up the sand dunes,
Starting to get hot.
You finally decide to catch up with your lot.
Running now,
Not slowing down,
You come to a high peak,
Where the ocean was once less deep.
You nod to your sister,
And raise your head.
Running down the hill you think isn’t this the best.
Your feet dig into the sand,
And fall on your hands.
The sand sticks to your clothing,
while your rolling.
And you think to your self,
I didn’t think I would find this in Mongolia.
This is so beautiful, Anika! I love how you write!
It is wonderful reading your blogs/persuasive essays and poems.
I feel like I am there with you.
Tell your parents I said that you are correct about needing a schedule for the school lessons.
Have darlinglove and kisse and hugs
Bubbie
Beautifully written dear Anika. I can feel the joy coming through in your poem. Wishing I was there with all of you for this amazing adventure. Your poetry momentarily makes me feel like I am.