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Our childhood fun and games are blamed on dad.
He thought that sandbox fun would do us good.
“When I was young, I wanted one so bad,”
he said and built the box with some pine wood.
The sand was brought back home in two large sacks.
He grabbed them, quickly tearing open each
and filled the box, not missing any cracks.
We thought our sandbox could be like a beach
and dad said, “Beach? It’s like the desert, kids.”
“The sand feels good between our toes,” we cried.
We began playing games with some cup lids.
And dad was happy, smiling big with pride.
My sister, Sylv and I had fun for days.
Our sand was used in many awesome ways.
I attempted writing a Sonnet .. however I think I am a little off on my beat, what's it called, the rhythum? I don't know what I'm trying to say.. but any suggestions on how to fix it are gladly welcomed :)

I was inspired by a memory of my own sandbox when I was a child.
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February 17, 2006
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