pebbles lined up in disarray
my eyes trained on the sand
exquisite in tiny marble grains
shining in the sun beneath bluest sky
I have lain long enough soaking in oil
my skin a bronze sheen now
my throat parched
I reach for a cool bottle of water
from our artesian well, clean, pure
I walk along the lapping shore letting
the naughty waves slap my ankles
I tread deeper into the white caps
tiny frothy curtsies every moment
they make me laugh
on the horizon is the outline of a ship
staid, grey, a small sliver of craft from here
but immense and strong, robust, a presence
when you get to see it some day later on
proudly taking space in the harbour
a giant of activity and industry, tall
high above my head as my gaze lifts
way down the beach I lean into the natural seat
of a huge driftwood log, encased in weathered hue
greyness shrouding its sturdy form, a comfort
I take my book from my beach bag and relax
beneath my sandy feet I feel the pulse of the lake
breathing itself into my soul and I smile
the ground swell of energy is a palpable thing
long hours later I watch enchanted as the red sun sets
crimson this time, fiery tendrils reaching outwards
stretching to fine lines of scarlet and wine, vermilion
my skin takes on a rosy glow in the intense last light
fading as the sky blue changes to navy in subtle layers
blackness creeping into the night air, sweetened with dew
I amble to my car, another beach day tucked away
for sustenance throughout the winter nights to come
