March 9, 2008
My best inspiration comes,
When I’m sitting on the shore.
Feeling the waves touch my toes.
The breezes blow my hair.
I smell the salt air,
And scrunch the sand between my toes.
I hear the seagulls speak,
And fishermen walk by.
The sun is just now rising.
It warms me from the cold.
In the summer,
On that shore,
My paper growing damp from the mist,
I raise my pencil,
And inspiration comes.

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