Beach Babe

October 9, 2012
By Anonymous

The hot sun, beating down on his skin.
Not a cloud in the sky.
The seagulls crying out, like obnoxious children at the library, flying over head in packs.
Searching for a snack or two.

Children playing, swimming, splashing.
As mom and dad bake in the sun like they don’t have a worry in the world.
Brother and sister play football or volleyball.
Soaking up the hot rays.
A sand castle here.
A tunnel to China there.

I lay on my yellow beach towel covered in tanning oil.
My skin browning. My new white fringed bikini lays so perfect.
My long blonde hair so wavy and natural.
My belly button ring sparkles in the sun. Those old aviators probably looked horrible on me but without them, I couldn’t see a thing.
I tried to look my best in hopes the beach babe would notice me.

I look to the streets.
Surf shops. Ice cream shops. Long board shops. Small cafes.
A pier. Snorkeling stands. Parasailing stands. Deep sea fishing.
No shirt. No shoes.
Those baby blue swim trunks, flowing in the light beach breeze.
His tan skin defining his big muscles.
Blonde hair. Blues eyes. Perfect white teeth. Gleaming so bright.
I wonder if they were real.
His long light blue and yellow surf board, sitting along side his soft, dark skin.
The strap around his ankle, in case he loses his balance.
Walking ever so calmly to the cold refreshing water.

Walking deeper and deeper into the water, he sets his board down in the ice water.
As he looks out at the waves, he lays his body on the board and starts to paddle.
His muscles helping him push, further and further away from shore.
Closer and closer to his passion.
As he reaches a perfect spot he sits up, dangling his feet in the water, looking out.

He waits for the perfect wave.
Many waves pass. Small waves. Big waves. Strong waves. Weak waves.
As the perfect wave approaches him, he lies back down on the board,
Turns back towards shore and begins to paddle.

The wave begins to lift him up as he hops onto his feet.
Flowing with the waves curves.
Gliding and splashing.
Running his hand along the inside of the wave as he rides along without a worry in the world.

As the wave comes to an end, he leaps from his board, diving into the cold water.
Swimming back to shore holding his prized possession.
He walks out of the water little by little, shaking the water off his toned body, flipping his blonde hair to the perfect spot.
The water perfectly dripping off him, like in a movie only right in front of my face.

As I watch his every move, I see him reach into his pocket, in search for something important because he started getting all jumpy.
Feeling every pocket, looking in the sand, thinking real hard.
He looked out into the water and set his board down in the hot sand.

Swimming so cautiously back into the water, I see something small floating.
After a few moments of watching him swim, deeper and deeper into the water.
Alone and so far from humans.
Not sure as to what it was, I see him grab the object and turn back to shore.

I hear screams like a plan just crashed or a robber entered a grade school.
Loud screams. Soft screams. High pitched. Low pitched. Long screams. Short screams. Child screams. Adult screams
Frantic screams.
As children and adults scurry out of the water.
I search left and right, up and down for the cause of all this commotion.
Then I see.
I see a fin.
I see the fin get closer and closer to the beach babe.

He began to swim frantically and fast, knowing that this creature is not a good one.
As the fin disappears under the water and then I see some splashes…
The beach babe went under water.
Without a sound.
Everyone stopped and stared.
Not knowing what to do or say.

The author's comments:
I thought I would write this poem because it was a topic that could have so many different outlooks. Someone else could see a beach babe a totally different way so this just made something my own!

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book