Hot Sand

Written by: tom bell

Went to the beach
The sand white hot
Raced to the water
For relief I got
What did I expect?
An air-conditioned beach?
Why was simple logic
Put out of reach?

Now near the water's edge
Trapped like a mouse
Every so often
My feet need a douse

Starting to burn,
But cut off from a way out
Surely a walk back
Though my only route

Fills me with dread
Sand too hot
To consider to tread

So roast in the sun,
Ain't this such fun?
When I get out of here
I'll have learned to fear

The heat of the sun
And my well roasted bun
I'll peel like a stripper,
Although they're much hipper

Next beach I'll see,
Will have to be on TV.