A Sunday at the Beach

Far from peaks of Mountains great
Far from clear cool valley lake
Far from seeded field of Maise
Lies all of life's birthing place

A place where wind touches land
A place where water washes sand
A place where the ocean & sky command
The view to where the horizon stands

And with the sound of waves a' crashing
And with the sounds of children splashing
And with the sound of the people laughing
To lay in the warmth of the sun's brilliant flashing

There was no cloud within the sky
There was the call of the seagull's cry
There was my kite that so high did fly
It was a day to make an angel sigh

The women with their deep tanned skin
barely clothed in cloths so thin
Their beauty without and within
brought up thoughts of the deepest sin

The water with it's wettened touch
I swam inside it's icy clutch
refreshing though it was as such
so cold that it was almost too much

My daughter as she pranced on by
her boyfriend and his wandering eye
her friend who kept on asking why
and in the chair relaxed was I

And as my skin turned slowly red
And as I ate ham and cheese on bread
And as my kite flew overhead
A book by my side sat there unread

The man in front with the radio on
The sullen boy who became withdrawn
That woman's gaze that called "C'mon"
are all the muses that I draw upon

It was a day so fair and sweet
A day inside the summer's heat
In that place where the land does meet
The ocean blue, A day complete

And so it was with a rested soul
I departed there with more control
Feeling younger and not so old
And with this rhyme my story's told

~The Snowdog~


TheHiker TheHiker
41-45, M
Jul 3, 2012