An hour of solitude by the bay,
As hush told the air,
To the presence of a solemn sole
Who just didn’t care.
The wind, sea-water and the trees-
Noble nature snuggled in her midst.
To twine before they would freeze,
Thus, they plotted and stood still.
Alas! What a picture of distorted view!
Glory hemmed in array.
This sudden switch in lieu
Like the magic wand of a Fay?
And, as sat on the silver sands;
All the rest were a whole,
With no means to an end.
Thus, for a somatic soul.
Eventually; the law so made
For all those in sojourn;
Neither of them were to fade;
Still, hope for a better morn.
Behold! Just then in its divine state,
Blew so close to the breast;
A soothing wind of the late
And laid all the dead to rest.
As it whisked the dust away,
The distraught heart moved apace;
Like that of a similitude to a whey-
Nature was meant for solace.
So, unwind the mind to her call,
As the cold melted the calm.
In their positions standing tall;
Together , they broke into a psalm.
Tall, slender palm trees sway
To the gusts blowing by the bay;
Tender air caress the leaves
Of those stalk that shy away.
Shone the full moon bright,
Lifting somber to her light.
Somehow, soulful to solicit
Attention from slumber to sight.
Nearby; the dry soil gently swirl,
Almost into a magical side;
Breaking a single cord to twirl
To the tune of the tide.