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