Barefoot in The Sand

Funny how childhood memories seem to surface when I walk the countryside.
The sun feels the same the breeze is a soft whisper like a peaceful after Sunday 
School soothing outdoor adventure.
Yet, years have long past, those days revisit, like they still remain.
The many faces we have in life bears witness a testimony to youth, and 
On down the line, now old age approaches, I still don't see its face but I feel
The pace grows a bit slower.
The beach is my playground, buckets and shovels for sand and shells, fill to
Their brim
Sweet summer arrives around the corner and the child in me sits in the sand 
With my grandchildren building cities on the shore, and watch the tide sweep them away
with the rhythm of each wave. 
A carefree moment reaches out, once again I'm barefoot in the sand.