Water’s glistened in sunlight, on the bay of Morgan,
revealing secrets of it’s bowels, from the shores.
Every seagull from afar, shouts it’s call up above,
come and dine on the substance water’s stored.
Morning sun crest the earth, on horizons dawning,
to a summer’s day at the beach free from worries.
Every child is stretching, with their bellies laughing,
as tiny castles made from sands, will tell their stories
Smells of fish from the bay, fills the winds of everyday,
as children have their memories being birthed.
Golden strands, silky hair, blown aside, as eyes will stare,
in glimmering sands lit from rays, that filled the earth.
Sunburned skin turns to tan, as little feet play in sand,
while the years of summers youth makes there mark.
Morgan Bay planted seed for those days of memories,
in the years, when hands of youth, loose their spark.
Morgan Bay had it’s part, in this aging wanning heart,
of a time when kid’s together, meant let’s go swim.
In the water’s of Morgan Bay, as we danced youth away,
on balmy days, playing hard with next of kin!
Written By: Barbara A. Carlan 1/30/2010
I grew up in the Florida panhandle so I am no stranger to a summers day in the sun on coastal waters. We had a family member that owned water front property at Ft. Morgan, Alabama. This poem was inspired by some of the days I remember staying at their beach camp. Pleasant memories for me………………….