Sand waits to be hydrated,
Waves crash along sharp rocks,
Ice-creams full of sand.
Scent of barbecues filled the air,
Children rolled in sand,
Champagne corks flies through the air.
Planes ready to take of,
Jet-skis bounced through the water,
Boats lowered there anchor.
Skinny wheels,
Hairy moss tangling around the spokes,
Rusty ancient wheels,
Squeaking in the wind,
The oily chains,
Leaking onto the soggy,parky grass,
Rusty gears,
As cobwebs sneaked on the bike squeezing with all there might,
Dirty mud-guards,
Spraying every speak of mud off.
You are the snow to my winter,
The sun to my summer,
You are as cold as a snow man,
You are as warm as a fire.
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