As summer rain does whisper on the sand,
Hot kisses of an August sun turn grey.
Wet bodies scurry, sandy to dry land,
And lazy towels sprawl empty where they lay.
The yawning chairs, and dripping parasols
Gawk, shivering in silence at the scene.
A long way off, a saddened seagull calls;
His solitary voice sounds harsh and mean.
Lighting flashes above the crashing seas,
As thunder rumbles, rolling to the shore.
In wake, a chill and eerie sort of peace
Falls tremulous, where terror shook before.
Laughter lights the sunset of this terrain:
Two love-soaked dreamers, running the rain.
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