Sand Goblins

The castles near built.
Towers of grit
Damp with the sea,
Encrusted with shells
And stones the waves spat up.

A long afternoon,
Back hot from the sun,
Sunglasses slip slick with sweat,
Rest now.
Paid the beach’s debt,
Back home now,
One last bucket,
Now it’s set.

Turn our back on sculpted sand,
Waves behind,
Singing sad separation songs,
As the sun sets the sand aglow,
The water whispers,
‘Sea you tomorrow.’

The beach is empty,
The sun setting slowly,
Scattering serene sea with sequins
And precious gems.

POP!

Seven sets of sandy spindly fingers
Push out of heavy quick-sand sludge
Followed by eyes,
Muscle shell black
And ears rimmed pink
Like shell linings.

They creep forward
Stomp forward
Crash, crumble, stumble forward
Stroll, roll, ramble forward
Towards our seashell palace.

They swarm around like vultures,
Eyes glitter, fingers twitter.

And then they Pounce.

Sticky legs swing back and forth
And sand flies up like dancing figures.
Shells patter,
Stones clatter,
And soon our sandy sculpture is no more.
Just a disturbance in the pattern
Of the sandy, beachy floor.

They turn to find another victim,
Black eyes blinking this way and that.
Castles tumble
Palaces crumble
And soon the beach is flat.

They turn around,
Survey their work,
And dance together with glee.
They clap their hands,
And stamp their feet,
Then run into the sea.

Next day we come,
Expectant
Looking out for evidence of our sandy fort
And finding none
Into the sea we run
To trample the Goblin’s court.