A Fine Morning at the Beach

Sand in my toes, clouds in the sky
On the beach I feel peace within.
The clouds may be angry and growling,
Burgeoning with water they wish to release on us all,
But I am not.
This day is a nice one; with a whipping,
Howling gust of wind that summons storms of sand.

The waves may crash uproariously upon the rocks,
Trying to erode them from existence.
Frigid waters may try to expel their visitors:
playful children and timid parents;
Rage grips the the tide and lashes it about.
But I hold no grudge like water does over land,
And for that reason I may be happy.