The Great Dune

It is a long way
To the Great Dune;
A mile of waving marsh,
Two miles that lay
Along the curving beach,
Soon the sand
Stings the cheek.
Where old piers stagger
Down the beach
We lean our bodies
On ocean winds
And that is where
The fun begins.

The sand is a treasure trove,
Lined with opals and ruby stones,
Shells of tortoise, crested foam
Which laps our feet
And hurries the sandpiper
Along the beach.
Hand wrought nails
In the whitening rib,
Thoughts of pirates,
Captain Kidd.
And always a chance
That one may find
A gold doubloon
From the captain’s mine.

And soon we reach
The Great Dune,
Where the salty winds
Play a plastic tune.
Rills and ripples
And waves that stand,
All of sand.
We make great tracks
For all to see,
Tumble down the sides,
Mix sand and glee.
Again we climb
This soft, white form,
Our Matterhorn.

We sail smooth shells
Through the ocean blue,
We match the gulls’
True flight.
When the setting sun
Gilds the dune,
A yellow mountain, cold,
We follow the path
Toward the pot of gold.
And far in the distance
Across the sand,
We behold an ancient land,
Church spires shining,
A medieval town,
As we go singing,
Homeward bound.