The Sandy Shore

THE SANDY SHORE

In morning’s light you’ll find me here,
Sitting in a folding chair
With a hat on my head
Facing the water’s edge.

At my back lays an open umbrella
Waiting to shade its guest
From the coming rays
Which will soon warm up the sandy shore.

And overhead gliding gulls
Loudly pierce the salty air
With their daily reverie of song,
Anticipating the day’s delight
As they scavenge for discarded bread.

How peaceful this scene,
The hazy air soon turns crystal clear,
An artist’s conception of a wonderful dream,
A priceless treasure to behold
When painting at the sandy shore.