Little on the Lake

Little on the Lake

By: Erika Allen

The waves roll soft across the rocks and o’er our painted toes.

The wind blows west in gentle gusts and through our summer clothes.

The sky is spotted light with clouds and flocks of gulls a fly,

as happily with heads bent down, the hours float right by.

We dance our way on down the shore and sing a silly song,

the lyrics writ by you and I as we cruise along.

When glimmering upon the sand you spy a cobalt hue

and grasping swiftly in your hand you hold it fast and true.

Then smiling with the deepest grin, your feet begin to fly

and raising it above your head, I hear your sweet voice cry

“Beach glass!”