The Beach

Dark foggy night embraces dawn, a salty smell

Stars struggle to pierce a silent mist

Sea snakes emerge and wiggle up a sandy ramp

To catch a frog or two

Morning dawns

Low-tide mirror, gently rippled

Joggers leave footprints in wet sand

A lonely fishermen pulls a net

Gentle morning sun, the tide is back

Moms descend with their naughty spoiled kids

To build sand castles and splash around

Scrambled eggs breakfast is over

Blazing sun at noon

Glimmering emptiness, a lazy heat

Some enthusiasts push their boats in the surf

Time for a good margarita

Afternoon mellows

Joggers and swimmers are back

Gentle breeze in the palm tree

The bar is filling up

Night is falling

Fisherman inspect their nets

Where music and waves merge

Lovers embrace

Midnight emptiness

The last drunkards have staggered home

A lonely beach belongs to the spirits

As a yellow moon sets afar

© 2008 by Franz L Kessler