At the Ocean

At the ocean one fine day,
A little girl was heard to say,
'Build a castle, Mommy dear,
Make it big and make it here."
Her footprints marked the very spot,
Wet and safe, or so I thought.

I took her pail and bent my knee
And dug and dumped 'til half past three.
At first my hands were out of touch,
My vision dull, I'd aged too much;
But as I molded sand like clay
It seemed my work had turned to play.

As architect with grand design,
I forged a moat to keep it mine,
While little hands, unnoticed now,
Felt play had turned to work somehow.
The breakers beckoned, she was lost
To carefree dance where currents crossed.

The little daughter twirled with glee
As mother, resting on one knee,
Made a drawbridge out of trash
And never heard the breaker crash
That filled the moat with sea and salt
Then slunk away, as if at fault.

And when this mother called that name,
Her castle finished, no one came.
And no one danced or twirled with glee
And no one smiled except the sea.