At the beach



One last day of summer by the beach,
I do beseech.

Free as can be,
To swim by the sea.

Waking in the morning,
Seeing beauty always dawning.

Hearing the waves crashing,
Giving the sand a lashing.

Being completely at peace,
With the sun in the east.

Being completely at rest.
When it falls in the west,

Without a single care,
And a lot of time to spare.

What I see is very pleasing,
My feet in sand always easing.

One last day by the beach
I do beseech.


J M Lysun