Friday 3 June 2016

The Beach



The Beach:
When I’m down south, there’s a soft breeze,
One that runs through my hair that flees.
Going to an island of sand,
Grass and water runs to the land.
When the wind blows,
The water and waves flow.
I lay a towel on the beach,
I read a book, so it can teach.
Collecting rocks and shells,
Lots of things from the ocean tells.
The swaying of the great green palms,
The waters in the evening calms.
Beautiful orange and red sunsets lay,
In the distance, no words to say.

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