I sit at my desk
the hum of the a/c in my ear.
I long to be free
to go to the beach for a year.

I want to walk across
a rustic collection of boards
nailed in such a way
as to carry me to the shore

I want to kick off my shoes
feel the burn of the earth
through the hot soft sand
as I run for all I’m worth

I want to feel the sideways slide
as the sand gives way
hearing the gulls laughing
as I stumble, fumble and sway

I want to pick my spot
up on that beach
stake my territory with a towel
just out of the water’s reach

I’ll shed my clothes
to lay on the sand
feel the breeze over my skin
like a lover’s hand

and when the sun’s blaze
becomes to much
I’ll head to the water
for it’s chilly touch

it will cool my skin
and toss me about
only to rock me gently
as I work my way out

in the water’s depths
I will float and dream
of mermaids and Neptune
and scary aquatic things

I will go back to that towel
on the sandy shore
pack up my bags
’til I can come back for more

There are things I must do
before I can return to the shore
Cause life’s not a beach
unless you finish your chores.