Those Cornish Days

Blankets spread and windbreaks tall
hot sand 'neath our blistering feet.
Semi-naked flesh revealing,
oiled skin, all hot and pealing.
Baskets full with lots to eat.

Surfer riding glinting blade
cutting into Cornish shore.
Shine the sun on endless waves,
carrying in their mighty braves.
Riding in on deafening roar.

With sinking sun they drift away
sunshine turns to evening haze.
Flocks of seagulls seek to find,
food that has been left behind.
From the tops of cliffs they gaze.

Lengthening shadows - the growing haze;
like memories of those Cornish days.

Andy May 2010

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