(the view from “the bench”)
Slowly panning the sunlit sky
I watch the gulls fly up so high.
The sun sinks slowly in the west,
The breeze is slow and at its best.
Gentle waves splash on the shore
They wash away distress galore.
I sit here gazing far away.
Enjoying a peaceful end of day.
The sun is low now, almost gone,
Waiting to come again at dawn.
Written by Ruth Miller
© April 2, 2011
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