When I Walk Om Margate’s Beach Poem by Gert Strydom
When I Walk Om Margate’s Beach
When I walk om Margate’s beach
something is caught,
in the sound of the breaking waves
and it echoes there forever more.
The beach is wiped clear
by the rushing waters
of the high tide,
but somehow footprints
walk the beach
as if they were just set there.
In the pleasant summer
golden bodies spreads
right around me
and the waves,
are filled with children
splashing and laughing
at the joy of living.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/20/2024 1:12:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
