His brother wore Lederhosen

The sand was not good enough for building castles, so they said.
Something to do with the roughness of the grains.
Every time we built one, it collapsed, driving us mad.
And then he came. A silent boy, just carrying his spade.
He was from Germany, and blonde. He had a very German name.
Each time a grown up spoke to him, he bowed, he often shook ones hand.
His brother wore some Lederhosen that would shine.

He didn’t speak with us, but started digging early in the day,
and by the time ‘t was noon, revealed what he had made.
It was a castle like we never saw before.
It was so fine! We were amazed. We lost our speech.
His glory didn’t last for long; the tide came and his castle washed away.
But from that day, he was the master of the beach.
Unlike the brother in his Lederhosen that would shine.


Comments on: "His brother wore Lederhosen" (13)

  1. A little Magister Magorum with the secret of sand…

  2. I love this.

    It is a ‘people watching’ poem and I love people watching!!!



    • Hi David,

      thank you very much 🙂 Observing people is probably the only way to understand the species!

      Arohanui 🙂

  3. Wonderful Ina!

    “All that glitters is not gold”!! 🙂

    L&H xx

    • Hi Christine
      Thank you 🙂 lol I remember those Lederhosen very well you know, I think they were black, dark green perhaps. Shining!

  4. Another excellent story-telling poem. You a master of observation and vividly conveying what you see, always taking us to somewhere a little magical even as it is down to earth.

  5. Even when masters build their castles the ocean always has the last laugh…

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