{"id":33722,"date":"2017-08-05T13:59:06","date_gmt":"2017-08-05T17:59:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=33722"},"modified":"2017-08-05T14:01:48","modified_gmt":"2017-08-05T18:01:48","slug":"prompt-5-calangute-beach-j-r-m","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2017\/08\/prompt-5-calangute-beach-j-r-m\/","title":{"rendered":"Prompt #5 (Calangute beach j.r.m\u00a9)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Take me back<\/strong>
\nback in time<\/strong>
\nto the place\u00a0<\/strong>
\nI once called<\/strong>
\nmy playground.<\/strong><\/p>\n

The air tasted <\/strong>
\nof salt and summer.<\/strong>
\nThe wind <\/strong>
\ncontinuously blew<\/strong>
\nas the waves <\/strong>
\ngreeted the shoreline.<\/strong><\/p>\n

…and it always felt<\/strong>
\nlike the waves were <\/strong>
\nplaying catch up<\/strong>
\nwith me.<\/strong>
\nAlmost wetting my feet.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I spent many <\/strong>
\na long summer day<\/strong>
\nbuilding my dreams <\/strong>
\non the foundations <\/strong>
\nof sandcastles.<\/strong>
\nAs the high tide set in,<\/strong>
\nthe sea looked <\/strong>
\nwild and free in the <\/strong>
\nway the wave’s <\/strong>
\nreach towards the shoreline.<\/strong>
\nMarking its territory as <\/strong>
\nif to say, “I was here.”\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

\nI always\u00a0<\/strong>
\nwondered where <\/strong>
\nwere the waves going?<\/strong>
\nWhat’s the hurry?<\/strong>
\nAlways pulling back…<\/strong>
\nWhy can’t they stay <\/strong>
\na while and keep me<\/strong>
\ncompany…<\/strong>
\nHelp me build a sandcastle <\/strong>
\nor two….<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Sunsets were always magnificent,<\/strong>
\nlittle as I was, the sunset hues <\/strong>
\nstill amazed me.<\/strong>
\nLike the sky was God’s palette <\/strong>
\nand he painted a brand new but, <\/strong>
\nslightly different sunset, everyday.\u00a0<\/strong>
\nI’d always wonder,\u00a0<\/strong>
\ndidn’t God ever run of the colors\u00a0<\/strong>
\nthat made the sunset hue?<\/strong><\/p>\n

j.r.m\u00a9<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Take me back back in time to the place\u00a0 I once called my playground. The air tasted of salt and summer. The wind continuously blew as the waves greeted the shoreline. …and it always felt like the waves were playing catch up with me. Almost…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":897,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,12,2114],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-33722","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","category-musings","category-official-marathon-announcement"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33722","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/897"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=33722"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33722\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":34598,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33722\/revisions\/34598"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=33722"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=33722"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=33722"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}