(Photo courtesy of Zachary Wilde)
Knaves ‘n waves ‘n salty suds,
sunshine glistening on y’er buds;
wet, revealing swimming duds…
Tame those thoughts for now.
Wild, matted, windblown hair,
the smell of ocean in the air,
playing all day without a care.
The teasing flies so freely.
Tossing a football hand to hand,
with lots of tackling in the sand,
the body contact feels so grand.
Time will come for scoring.
Running and diving in head first,
sand in all cracks feels the worst;
frolicking naked builds a thirst.
It’s five o’clock somewhere.
Playfully drying in nature’s own,
not surprising some have grown;
it’s nice to see you’re not alone.
Beer cans pop in celebration.
Sitting with towels loosely hung,
sipping suds, the night is young;
one by one the empties flung;
sun gently sets into the sea,
to the boys of summer rising.
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