Clear as crystal on the beach
seconds later, sight cannot reach
as if gauze placed over my eyes
on that sense I can no longer rely

I still hear the waves and taste the salt spray
but the sight of ships, is  what I pray
cruising in the aquamarine sea
take in the impressive a sight to see

The mists roll in and cloud the scene
a bit of fright, into the serene
swirling and moving ghosts and ghouls
in the early morning sun, our brain is fooled

The soup blows away with the breeze
kicks up the sand, and the leaves
clears the view, and dries the sweat
into the water, great tide to get wet.