(In loving memory of my Grandpa who died April 21, 2008)

The sun is moving slowly toward the sea
As graceful seagulls sore above his head.
His closed eyes let his mind and heart roam free
‘Cause here the frenzied world lies down to bed.

The crowded waves dump sound onto the beach.
His weary feet feel sand between their toes.
Sun rays shoot up at clouds too high to reach,
As playful children build castles in rows.

Seawater smells of salted fish and grass.
Yet it calms the soul into mindless daze.
The sun is down and sand is turned to brass.
The dolphins, far out, move right through their maze.

The beach is where he learned to play at best.
His eyes close and the waves lay down to rest.