The breeze, cool and fresh, rises from the cove
spilling across the summer meadow
bringing with it the fragrance
of sweet peas and wild roses.

The morning clouds break opening
to the soon to be sweltering sky-
I watch sunlight sparkle on the placid cove
and dream of the sounds of the ocean.

Even this mornings poem
in my inbox
speaks of the splashing foam and
the sound of crashing waves
white sails in the wind
and salt spray against the skin.

So I dress in the colors of sea and sand,
sparkling gulf stream blue, sail white,
glittering gold, pale seaglass green,
and take my dreams along the Ozark ridge
as I walk the small dog
by the placid waters of the cove
under the soon to be sweltering sky.