Skipping Along Alone (Monday Poem)

by Winifred Welles


Oh, how I love to skip alone
Along the beach in moisty weather;
The whole world seems my very own,
Each fluted shell and glistening stone,
Each wave that twirls a silver feather.

I skip along so brave and big
Behind the sand-birds gray and tiny,
I love to see their quick feet jig,
Each leaves a mark, neat as a twig,
Stamped in the sand so clear and shiny.

And fine and faint as drops of spray
I hear their little voices calling,
"Sweet, sweet! Sweet, sweet!" I hear them say--
I love to skip alone and play
Along the sand when mist is falling.



From Time for Poetry: A Teacher's Anthology
edited by May Hill Arbuthnot
1951, Scott Foresman