The Beach

The beach is cold and stings
As dainty little feet walk across the sands,
That time has been unable to mar.
The sun is just a glow over the
Horizon.
Mist hangs in the air, footprints are left in the sand.
And yet,
Nothing has changed.
The world could be thrown into darkness,
Buildings could crumble, people could die,
Or a job could be lost,
Or a house need repainting. It could be
A family argument, and tension among friends.
It could be the shadow in the doorway, a knife in it's hand,
Haunting your dreams again.

But the sands on the beach would still be unmarred by the
Cruel hands of time.
His love in you would be a butterfly of hope,
As the world was ending. His embrace
Would be a comfort in the midst of the dead.
The lost job will roll off his shoulders,
As he cracks a joke to make you laugh, because,
He lives for your laugh.
And he'd make a game, of the trivial task of house
Work, so that even though you both hated it,
It would be time you'd be together.
The family argument he would shut up and step back. And then,
He'd disagree with you, kindly, and tell you, you're wrong. Because,
He knows your heart when you're too,
Upset to know it yourself.
And, he would push you towards your friends,
With his very being. He'd make them feel,
As loved as you are,
Because he'd know they're so important, and they
Have been a stronger part of you,
Than he ever could be.

And when you woke from the shadow in the doorway,
Of haunted dreams,
He'd pull you over in bed, let your tears stain his skin,
And sit awake all night,
So you could sleep without fear.

And the beach would remain unmarred, the hands of
Time unable to claw lasting marks,
Because of something you don't understand,
Because you're in love.