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Tuesday, August 25, 2020

DOG DAYS of SUMMER....August 25th


Today is a short read. 
My AUGUST piece and verse focuses on walking on the beach again.  I see these different images of beach scenes and taking a stroll.  Different reasons why one walks picking up shells.  These images came to mind as I began to wake up yesterday and I got them down before I would forget.  I see the beach, scattered sea shells and a person walking in the early morning.  She collects shells looking for the perfect ones; jagged ones remind her of her broken heart.  I think I may have visualized a beach scene due to last thing I read before falling asleep that night prior. 
Today I reflected upon what I need to do today.  I never cared either for Tuesday.  Enough I feel said on the subject.  
Hope your day is going well. 
Until next time....as always Stay Safe. 
        
🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾
     August 25th....DAILY REFLECTIONS 

Deciding what I need to do     
      today....I’m wondering if I can put it off    
         till tomorrow 

Like Mondays I’ve always despised 
     Tuesday’s....of course all the days just 
       mesh as one anymore


Perhaps I’ll begin to think of Tuesday as 
   Hump Day Eve....that should work....then     
     it’s not like Wednesday is holding any 
         special plans either 

πŸ– πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–
                    AUGUST 25th
            © Scottie-ann Murphy 

Alone I walk along the beach in the early 
       morning

Under a cloudless blue sky I stroll 
     nonchalantly 

Gathering shells in the plastic pink pail I 
      carry 

Unfortunately many seem to be    
    fragmented today

Sea shells jagged lie upon the sugary white 
    sand

They remind me of my broken heart,      
      severed by you 

   πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–πŸ–     
                      USELESS 
              © Scottie-ann Murphy

Alone I walk on the beach in the early     
    morning hours
A pink plastic bucket I carry to gather sea 
      shells and glass
Seagulls squawkIng overhead 
    rumble of waves hitting the shoreline 
        the only sounds I hear
Shells lie upon the white sugary sand like 
      confetti 
Those perfect in appearance 
      I pick them up for my collection 
Others are fragmented and jagged like my   
      heart, they are useless 




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