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Jan 2015
Put on the suit,
give a big hoot,
going along you shoot,
down the highway.
Lug out your stuff,
telling yourself you're buff,
until you rest and huff,
deciding to stay.
Taking off the sandals,
feet touch ground-up gravel,
while picking up clothes to rattle,
feeling the sun beat with every ray.
The odd stink of sunscreen,
put on to protect and leave a sheen,
needs to absorb and not be seen,
so as to hop in and say yay!
Run! Run! It's so fun!
Here, you dive under the sun,
and float around until you hum,
just like a mocking jay.
The waves come crashing,
turning you to thrashing,
so suddenly you are gasping,
hoping everything will turn out okay.
Hands come to grab you,
They know what to do,
Later you find out who,
and know you want to pay.
Sandcastles are the best,
resting on your chest,
you begin the big crest,
until big waves come to dismay.
Finally you want to rest,
soaking in limited UV's are the best,
on a spot of sand you make your nest,
for an hour you will lay.
What makes the trip complete,
is picking up your seat,
to make everything neat,
and that sums up your beach day.
Em
Written by
Em
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