I love the beach. I love the sand. I love the water. I love being tan.
Torrey Pines is my favorite. I want to take Lisa there.
I want to go to Coronado. The sand sparkles, like her.
Susana
The sand filled my toes as i stood at the edge of the water. But this was no lake or pond, i was accustomed. This was a massive body of water called the beach.
jake
the wind is blowin up. all my thougths.. i wanna meke this feeling disapear. im jus wanto o be happy. like always
que rico estar. inside. moving on. moving on. todolo que siento es el viendo por la cara sin nada mas que pensar. lo mejor que me pudo haber pasado. soledad. simplemente la soledad
polo
i’m at the beach. i feel the breeze and it’s the only thing that helps me breathe. everything here keeps my soul grounded and whole.
The day seemed to be flawless, the air cool and crisp, with the surf grazing on one’s feet. But then it happened. That minor act that changed everything, and poisoned the surf a dark crimson.
Ashley B.
Fresh. The smell of fresh permeates my soul. I feel the grains of sand on my feet and I melt.
The breeze was so refreshing standing next to you. Your oily skin so close to mine. I’m sorry but I’ve never seen such a man! Thats why I couldn’t look you in the eyes when you handed me my beach ball. Thanks by the way.
jordan thompson
I live near a beach where there are sand dunes peaking around the perimeter of the lakeshore. I don not like the sand dunes for their beauty, but hate them for their treacherous height
Dana Tommola
I’m disappointed that I’ve been getting the same word every day. I’m sure many things could be written about the word beach, more exciting things can be chosen. I made an account so hopefully that will be fixed.
Joy Blum
Sandy shores, rolling waves, it all is something special. The seagulls, the push and pull of water, the immersion of your own pulse and heart beat when you sink into the ocean is the only thing around to be heard.
The beach. Running along the soft sand, and tripping over bundles of seaweed as we pursued the birds. My sister and I, our hair in dark tangled bundles atop our heads. We were so young then.
I went to the beach recently, I burned my skin to a red hot crisp. One would think when Hitler decided we were the master race, he’d have taken into consideration the sun. I guess not.
To beach a whale is not so difficult. It’s getting it back home again that takes thought, persistance, but overall, caring. You must care enough to think and to persist and to push and push and push.
Trellis
The sand, the sea, the sky, the wind, the salty air, the irritable hair flying everywhere. I don’t live near the beach, but to feel the sand underneath my feeet, I would love to experience that more often.
foldedmemos
The final time before you step into the blue abyss of ignorance. Forever endless, forever continuing. Rowing there, drowning, lost, looking for your last foothold.
The hot summer sun burned down on my skin, making small dark freckles pop out all over random areas. Some peices of myself, darkening others staying light. Isn’t that the way of the soul? Sin and peace and lovingness all together?
Evie
The white shore went on and on, and I knew further ahead, in the reeds, further inland, I would find the petroglyphs, the cool water running down the sacred rocks.
Son of a beach, this is the same writing prompt as yesterday and the day before. It’s time for the tide to come in to wash this word away and bring in a fresh batch of words! I need my One Word fix!
I love the beach. I love the sand. I love the water. I love being tan.
Torrey Pines is my favorite. I want to take Lisa there.
I want to go to Coronado. The sand sparkles, like her.
The sand filled my toes as i stood at the edge of the water. But this was no lake or pond, i was accustomed. This was a massive body of water called the beach.
the wind is blowin up. all my thougths.. i wanna meke this feeling disapear. im jus wanto o be happy. like always
que rico estar. inside. moving on. moving on. todolo que siento es el viendo por la cara sin nada mas que pensar. lo mejor que me pudo haber pasado. soledad. simplemente la soledad
i’m at the beach. i feel the breeze and it’s the only thing that helps me breathe. everything here keeps my soul grounded and whole.
The day seemed to be flawless, the air cool and crisp, with the surf grazing on one’s feet. But then it happened. That minor act that changed everything, and poisoned the surf a dark crimson.
Fresh. The smell of fresh permeates my soul. I feel the grains of sand on my feet and I melt.
The breeze was so refreshing standing next to you. Your oily skin so close to mine. I’m sorry but I’ve never seen such a man! Thats why I couldn’t look you in the eyes when you handed me my beach ball. Thanks by the way.
I live near a beach where there are sand dunes peaking around the perimeter of the lakeshore. I don not like the sand dunes for their beauty, but hate them for their treacherous height
I’m disappointed that I’ve been getting the same word every day. I’m sure many things could be written about the word beach, more exciting things can be chosen. I made an account so hopefully that will be fixed.
Sandy shores, rolling waves, it all is something special. The seagulls, the push and pull of water, the immersion of your own pulse and heart beat when you sink into the ocean is the only thing around to be heard.
The beach. Running along the soft sand, and tripping over bundles of seaweed as we pursued the birds. My sister and I, our hair in dark tangled bundles atop our heads. We were so young then.
I went to the beach recently, I burned my skin to a red hot crisp. One would think when Hitler decided we were the master race, he’d have taken into consideration the sun. I guess not.
beach is nice.. i love beach. i liver near bech. i wish i can have a home at bech. i locve the beeach atmosphere. I like to sial boat on beach
i miss the beach and clear skies, sun all around and prettyy faces everywhere.
tranquility and love: beauty
I went to the beach today.
I sat on the sand, watching the tides. Then you came. You were beautiful.
i stood there on the beach… such a calming notion… i lied down a tried to let the waves carry me away into nothingness
To beach a whale is not so difficult. It’s getting it back home again that takes thought, persistance, but overall, caring. You must care enough to think and to persist and to push and push and push.
The sand, the sea, the sky, the wind, the salty air, the irritable hair flying everywhere. I don’t live near the beach, but to feel the sand underneath my feeet, I would love to experience that more often.
The final time before you step into the blue abyss of ignorance. Forever endless, forever continuing. Rowing there, drowning, lost, looking for your last foothold.
The hot summer sun burned down on my skin, making small dark freckles pop out all over random areas. Some peices of myself, darkening others staying light. Isn’t that the way of the soul? Sin and peace and lovingness all together?
The white shore went on and on, and I knew further ahead, in the reeds, further inland, I would find the petroglyphs, the cool water running down the sacred rocks.
Son of a beach, this is the same writing prompt as yesterday and the day before. It’s time for the tide to come in to wash this word away and bring in a fresh batch of words! I need my One Word fix!