Llansteffan's Sands of time
Beneath the gaze of a castles bare bones, Llansteffan Beach whispers it's tide swept tones.
The sea, an old bard, chants with salt- laced breath, of Norman conquest and of Welshman's death.
The massive twin- towered gatehouse now a ghost, looks over a shore where ancient armies crossed.
Now as I stand on the shore so grand, I stare across the vast land.
The shore's breaths a sigh, a gentle salty sound, where the ocean meets the ground.
My feet sink into the deep sand, a warm yielding hold, each grain a story of centuries-old.
The wind a force with an unseen hand, scours the shoreline, shifting the land.
The footprints of yesterday, a passing vow, are erased completely and utterly now.
Like years that have vanished, a form of age, the wind turns over a brand new page.
But for this moment caught between the tides ebb and flows, the sands will forever remember everything it knows.