
The beach,
The sand,
This whole trip’s
Gotten out of hand.
Here I sit
A matter of fact,
The magic’s now coursing.
I’m ready to act.
Pencil in hand,
Paper set down,
The rhythm is flowing
To the beat of the sound.
The visions,
The glittered ‘scape,
Taken to new heights.
Now, roll the tape.
POET’S NOTE:
Part of The Thinking Dark collection.
© 2024 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on mypoeticside.com, July 26, 2024.



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