Ribald footprints of a silent,
broken guitar rendezvous with an ebbing tide:
recalcitrant thoughts wash away along this sandy shore.
Echoes of laughter linger,
carried by the whispers of waves,
each note a fleeting memory,
soft as the touch of a summer\'s breeze.
Weathered strings, worn and frayed,
tell tales of bygone melodies,
once vibrant, now subdued,
lost in the symphony of the sea.
Crescent moon above watches,
its silver light caressing the coast,
while the stars compose a silent score,
guiding the night\'s tranquil refrain.
Footsteps of wanderers past,
etched in the sands of time,
their stories woven into the fabric
of this shoreline, ever-changing.
A seagull\'s cry, sharp and clear,
breaks the hush of twilight,
a reminder of life\'s ephemeral nature,
a fleeting moment, gone too soon.
Driftwood collects, a natural stage,
where remnants of dreams alight,
amidst the salted air and briny scent,
a freshly refilled palette of the night.
Beneath the shadow of towering cliffs,
a sanctuary for the soul,
where the waters\' edge becomes
a canvas for reflection and release.
As dawn approaches, the tide retreats,
drawing secrets back to the deep,
leaving behind a pristine shore,
ready for new impressions to be made.
And so, the recital continues,
an endless cycle of ebb and flow,
where the past meets the present,
in the delicate dance of the waterfront.