A stride in time
The beach is trying
Cleanliness is foam
The ocean has a home.
Cliffs are dark
The edge is stark,
I seem insignificant
Yet it all mattered.
The ride was so long
The journey cost me petrol money
The children sang songs
The sea told of our arrival & smelled funny.
Salt in the air
Keeping me aware
Telling me of tomorrow
When I will not know sorrow.
Nature is the gaol
The shallow hole in the soul
Where the tempest is not calm
For all the world to harm
The latent gin and gun
And saddest waves to come
Of fashion. Oldness. Tired waistlines.
Missing the womb of creation
Where the meat and metre is fine.
The beach ball is not so fancied
As time with the placard for chips and cheese
& the new style of dancing
Is keeping me up to date with daily needs.
This was the point of our journey
A merry union of the sun with the sky
Where shy children can laugh and play
And the shadows do not touch the day.