Cronulla Beach

The thrashing waves punch the sand

The purple and pink flowers waving

I walk on the sidewalk, looking bland.

So minty, so fresh

Filling my nose

What so fresh flash

Of wind that slows and then blows.

“Such goodness”, I say

“No violence, no fights, no foray.”

The trees wave and wave

“I agree with you very much,” they relaxingly say.

The bushes and leaves

Waving like a wand

The clouds race

Facing off in an intergalactic race.

My eyes glittering

In such fresh weather.

“I know! I know!” I’m yet to say.

“This is my own happy place.”