Chameleons under foot race in-between
umbrellas, raised to shield from blinding light,
Each detail planned ahead, a perfect scene,
Nothing left to chance, all viewpoints right.
My misty morns at ‘Poly’ fill my nights
with dreamy visions, moments set in time,
’til hazy, crazy summer sets things right,
Enwrapping wintry chill with tropic clime.
I saunter, barefoot, paced to inner rhyme,
And drawn to grains of sand mere steps away,
Lagoon in mirrored stillness; calm, sublime,
And wet decks glisten in the slanting rays.
Changes come, but we like homing doves,
Return together here, to laugh and love.