Under the sun, but, under the parasol

“There is just something so fun, laying, under the bright sun, but only, if I have my parasol, where I lay down without being too dull!” Gun Roswell

Under the sun, but, under the parasol 

The sun is shining, so brightly, against the blue of the sky
Nothing or no other experience in life, makes me really, smile
As does this meteorological phenomena do, to little ol’ moi
When I have made the trek to the beach, for the day encore en foi 
But this is not just about throwing some French around
But rather,  to enjoy a day, resting, even if lying, on the ground
A day at the beach, in theory at least, is a plan totally sound
But if the heat gets a tad too much to resist, and groaning out loud
Becomes the permanently made, teeth grinding non-vowels
Then it is that time, when the parasol comes to play
Quickly setting up the plastic colourful monstrosity to full display
Never mind the outlook, it’s fine because I myself won’t look
At the contraption, now above my very large head, slightly shook
Because, I will be happy on this one day of summer no matter what
Even with all them flies and other types, I away have to swat
This one single day I have earned with much work and sweat
So I will be damned if the heat or what ever other problem might me let
Feel less of fun, or any other type of good feeling 
As I lay here, watching the day, pass me by, leading
Towards the hopefully calm and setting sun for the evening
When I will leave this place, with a smile on my face

Until next year, when I get one day off and to the beach, once again trot
With my parasol naturally, so I can enjoy, the sun, fully!

2 thoughts on “Under the sun, but, under the parasol

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