A shanty by the sea sits high on a hill
The old woman knits, watching the
otters in the brilliant blue waters
The seashore is scattered with cockles
and shells, sun reflecting colors of pink
and pastels
Furniture is scanty in the shanty, a
white washed table and chair, a
patchwork spread, and a spring
mattress for a bed
White sail boats drift at sea
sitting on her stool as peach pies
cool, winding spools of yarn as she
yawns and sighs…This is a portion of my poem
‘Shanty By The Sea’
Donna's Poetry Blog 