It is 7pm, at this Coral Hotel ,
As the sun sets West,
Yellow-York sun kisses us goodnight,
As the ocean beneath follows in persuit..
Migrating, like two couples in hot persuit..
Here, the last of the fish dives,
As canoemen,
And little children, from the slums,
Scavange the ocean foot and floorsteps..
The boats are laid ayonder,
The marina,
Then this Kingfisher takes a dive,
The evening dive,
Where our son,
Dives for his bride without a miss,
For they say it got to be your miss or mess..
The spectature,
Eludes human soul and mind..
Dar is daringly a darling,
As most brownies position,
Themselves with imposition…
Chancing on some imperfections..
Eyes fixed on to the migrating sea,
A few giggles here and there,
As the king of Kareoke,
Blows champaign and coke,
Unleashing some unique seaside strokes..
The marmaids,
Are like barmaids,
Waiting for the sun,
To discend,
To this ocean end..
