Desert Island

Clouds are building and tinted opalescent

The sky is pinky golden orange bathed

The sun drops from the sky into the sea

As it hangs it radiates a light stripe

Across the coloured water a path

I stand on the darkening sand awe struck

Should I tread that path or sit by the boat

I listen to the gentle lap of waves

Pebbles rattling as they are disturbed

Perpetual motion the sea progresses

I sit resting my back against the boat

It still feels warm a comfort an anchor

A solo palm tree my companion

Sharing the vista the tranquility

I jump at an intrusive noise a beep

Reluctantly I open my eyes

I stretch and look at an office desk

Piled high with files pens and paperwork

Relaxation over I tackle work