The Beach
Standing here, looking out to view what I can see
Surveying things, about me near the ocean flowing free
Surfers riding waves as if at 1 with natures ways
People wander on the sand, with dogs eager to play
Fabric kites move in the wind like dancers on a stage
whilst on the ground the men control the constant flow and sway
with arms stretched out, they're leaning back to fully take the strain
The giant bird of cloth design, it's flight does wax and wane.
Children building forts of sand, they'll last until high tide
With fathers buried in the ground, and mothers sat aside
She reads Vanity Fair or Cosmo, or some other woman's rag
content to sit and soak the rays, whilst puffing on a f*g
There's fossil searching, Frisbee throwing, splashing in the sea
lovers kissing, grannies catching up on some lost sleep
whilst up above the scene below, I stand and merrily,
Survey these things, a picture postcard painted before me
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