My feet strike the sand and the wind stings my face
The thunder rolls with a resonating base
I gaze toward the ocean to inspect the grand waves
I peer in the barrel; the hollowed out cave
Waxing my board with great anticipation
As I marvel at the work of Mother Nature’s creation
I speed toward her shores to begin the great hunt
I spot it at once, my quarry in front.
2 comments:
Short, to the point. Well-painted observation and reflection. Another nice piece Randy
Thank you sir. When I lived in Florida I was at the beach all the time..every day almost. The school I attended their was along the Inter-Coastal Waterway so it was enough even more a part of my life. Currently residing in SC, the beach about 30 minutes away. But that I tell you sir is far to long a distance. I must relocate. I should be able to spit and hit the water from my home. Embellished but not any less true. (the spitting part, not the poem)
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