North Shore

the morning mist rises from the bright grass... a soft shower from earth to the heavens ...flicks of blue and yellow wings waltzing in the onshore flowing breeze tickling ,arousing cool flesh,apon which fine hairs lavish in moisture.
a plume of wildflowers crest the trodden mounds beyond the pastel houses...nearby... bare feet smothered in pale sands,with small scuffed toes step past with reverent care, then rage onward from the orange and brown slated walk... to rush... to cause great billows of suntinseled pebbles...to thrash the gentle breakers and laugh....to claim the barrage... as heartbeats and joy claim such exclusive glory.
out there..where gulls are glistening white winks... their cries stranded and faded on forgotten sand bars .....where time is but the burden of the sun, moon,and boats anchored like maids in waiting..trembling on silky sheets..and oh.. that I could free them all..to let loose and cause exhuberant billows of foam...to soar as dolphins do..with fins of wind....