The Sketch

At the beach

in the shade,

recalling all

the times

we stayed

overnight

in a tent,

exhausted,

two young

bodies

spent.

All day long

in the sun,

we surfed ‘n

wrestled just

for fun;

while waiting

‘til the sun

went down,

so we could

really fool

around.

Oh how those

were the days,

sipping suds

to Purple

Haze;

young ‘n free,

not a care,

tie-dyed

dreams,

and long,

long, hair.

Pad of paper,

inspired now,

to sketch that

sweet memory

somehow.

You always

brought out the

artist in me,

and put the lead

in my pencil.

~g