The Beach

Between the hustle and bustle, Of the burdened chaotic land, On one end of the horizon. And the uncalm sea dancing wildly, On the other end. I sit unburdened and hopeful, On a mound of soft powdery sand, Unmaligned, and my soul washed white, Just like the happy chirpy gulls, Amongst the numerous starfish shells. The wind lifts my spirit high, The crashing waves play a lullaby, And the earthy smell of the shaking sea, Cleans my flitting, ruffled mind, With a subtle fragrance, so divine. I creep an inch forward, and two backward, To play with the frothy blue water, As it foams my toes with its smooth lather, This sliver of a creamy white space, Has become my sanctuary of undivided peace. Ah, the shimmer of the sun, mellow, Sinking rapidly into the endless ocean, Paints the environ in a peachy glow, And the blue and white, golden. With closed eyes and sealed lips, And a soul stirred, fresh and crisp, I sit there longing for more, As the last vestige of light, Leaves me forlorn, On this strip of silver, Folks call, the beach and I call, Home.