They had found paradise
Washed to the shore
Nothing else left to do
But walk, discover and explore.
Combing the white sand
Looking for treasure,
Something to devour
Mainly for pleasure.
No traffic here, no crime
No highway patrol
Nature has everything
Under strict control.
Driftwood, old tin trays
Dotted here and sometimes there
Brain not gone into melt down yet
Cells still under repair
No panic sets in, the loneliness
Has not hit hard
Still best to keep wits about
To keep on one’s guard.
Shells galore, with a no vacancy sign
Pinned to the outside
Better make early tracks
For the swelling of the tide.
Find some shelter, find food
Find warmth, make a fire
My skin erupts with panic
And starts to perspire.
My feet are being ripped to shreds
With sharp shells and flint
Somehow, to my amazement
That has given me a hint.
Never been in a situation like this
Can’t even go and ask a friend next door
Just look to sea and the sand
And if anything is coming to ashore.