Beaches Poem by Jim Boone

Made of sand and kissed by the surf
Mated in Summer by physicality
Quite oily and rarin’ to stay

Footprints behind footprints
Over the sand and into the dunes
For gritty encounters
Up close and impersonal

God and the universe made beaches
As vacation and end of the world
Destinations of fun and aaah-time

Artists paint them
Feet recollect the surf’s siren call
Sunsets adore them
Sunrises smile upon them
Storms ravage them

But on the fringe of the great oceans
Endless Summer lays in wait
For the next visitor, the next Islander
To find, play and chill
On, and by, our favorite beaches.

2011