The susurrus brush of sinuous waves,
systatic with the siccaneous sand,
is soft in her sun-clad syzygy
guided by the virason's weathered hand.
The fusillade of over-turned fossils
foraminate the fool's merry frescade—
a farraginous flânerie falls short
of foaming footprints he's now forced to wade.
And so the shore laps up the shingled kiss,
an insatiable disregard for man;
insidiating with the sea to spoil
his own lecanoscopic day-dreamed plan.
And so the shore stops his saccharine kiss,
the velleites of man in ignorant bliss.