Seasonal Change Poem by Quentin Sands

The sun glistens heavenly over our heads; thus casting black shadows as we walk in
togetherness.
We prespire, skylarking in our seizure, in youthful bantering as we reach our destination.
Sudenly the wind is crisp, there is an occassional breeze about us pressing against our faces.
Feet cooled by the soft feel of wet sand, we emerge into the tranquil waters.......
we rise, we laugh, we dry ourselves and journey home.

The lean season begins and the sound of rain on our roof-tops restrain us to indoor activities.
The once humid air is cut sharply by the smell of moisture and precepitation.
Water trickles slowly down the window pane as I gaze unpatiently for a clearer day.
I bombard my mind with many insane questions, knowing fully well that there are yet no
answers.