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Wispy Clouds in a blue sky,
On thermals, two ospreys float.
Perfect day for kites to fly,
Or to launch a sleek sailboat.
The breeze is brisk on the beach,
Blown sand reshaping the dunes.
High above the seagulls screech,
Pelicans pass in platoons.
Beachcombers bend for a shell,
Children’s castles on the sand
Threatened by each tidal swell,
Lovers strolling hand in hand.
And buried up to his chin,
Lies a sleeping, snoring man.
Perhaps, when the tide comes in,
He’ll struggle free…if he can.
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