Monologue by the Beach

I sat by the sea one day,

And looked at the sands fly,

It made me think aloud,

Like a monologue with the sea.



Sands of time do fly,

Tis the only truth there is.

But doth it fly like dust,

Or one be it with thy waves.



This depends on how we live,

Our lives here on earth,

Like the dreary sand of the desert,

Or the playful sands of thy shore.



The sand of the desert is lonely,

With memories of no life,

The sand of the sea is joyful,

Laden with memories of this beautiful life.



Tis said that beauty is with the beholder,

So it is with the sands of time,

Whether they be dry and dreary,

Or be joyful like a child.