Original Artwork by Renelle Sommerville
The sound of Spanish accents in the air,
Mixed with humid heat and tropic haze.
The maiden with the long and curly hair,
Is loving sun-warmed sand and lazy days.
While waist-deep waders test the gentle waves,
And kelp and seaweed dot the gypsum sand.
Her heart is filled with happiness she craves,
By unknown things she never could have planned.
An insult echoes from the younger one,
And quickly she responds with backhand "V".
"I really hope the sharks don’t get you, hun!"
And then she gazes o’er the azure sea.
At sixteen years she thinks the world is hers,
But brothers sneer and say she’s just a kid.
Ambition races, goals are often blurred.
She spends a tooney now and not a quid.
The far horizon holds her steady stare,
A straight, true line as she thinks life to be.
But at her feet the surf is frothing there,
And froth is what creates her agony.
For froth tears at the sand beneath her feet,
And sinks her lower as it washes out.
While sinking sands do sometimes mean defeat,
O’ercoming them is what this life’s about.
She gently shifts her feet to solid ground,
Which looks just like the sand she left behind.
This simple lesson learned, she’s safe and sound,
Her destiny controlled by her own mind.
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