Beachfront condos shrouded in the early mist
of morning. Seagulls hanging on the breeze,
their screeching waking sleepyheads
before their coffee, it's July the 4th,
the holiday is here!
Sailboats daubed in milky opalescence
growing clear, as sunlight nibbles at the sea wall.
Artists set their easels, hot dog vendors
primed and waiting, T-shirt boutiques
ready for the avalanche.
Parking-lots are full, it's getting hot now.
Suntanned beauties modeling string bikinis
scramble for position.
"Let's get the best spot on the beach!"
they cry, toting towels and frisbees to the sand.
Flags and beer are peddled in profusion,
smells of barbecue and pizza fill the air.
Suntan oil for those who need it,
all those fair-skinned redheads seeking
rest and refuge from the blazing sun.
Painters competing for the famed Grand Prize,
trying to catch the essence of the ocean.
Could be the next Monet! Muted pastels
smeared on canvas. Hold on, Claude,
you'd best not give up your day job!
Para-gliders soar in gay abandon,
floating through the sky like eagles hovering
they lay it on the line. You ask me,
it's sheer recklessness,
all those crazy people cheating gravity!
Musicians making ready for the concert,
violins and tubas tuning up.
People find their beach chairs
and get comfortable to listen
to the melodies of vintage Broadway songs.
And then the fireworks - woosh, boom, crackle! -
shock the heavens with their iridescent light.
'The Star-Spangled Banner.' Couples cuddle
up in blankets to watch the rockets
paint the sky 'Red, White and Blue!'
They make their way contented to their cars,
young and old alike loved the festivities.
Stop to get some Rolaids, (too much pizza,
fun and frolic!) but the day will last forever
in their memories.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2016
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