"Rhyl Sands" by David Cox (1854)
The eye between the lids of sand and sky
Everything human dwindles and scurries
Our pride would reason and nature defy
Tremble before our titanic worries
Our grand summer vacations begin now
All toil and sorrow melted by the sun
To cultivate our health we bravely vow
Then pour it all into the mouth of fun
Measured by our own hands, we are giants
Considered by the sun, we're insectile
The fresh hill thrills the vain, exhausted ants
Who gape with envy at thumbs prehensile
Short stories between covers gold and blue
Though brief, our tales are beautiful and true
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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Comments (1)
I love that second to final line, it distills so much