A Boy’s Folly

It’s that happy time of the day

When crickets crick and froggies frog

And pirates sing after their grog

On paradise beach huge waves spray.

Then from the dunes comes a girl’s, “HEY!”

Up pops a boy not beyond eight,

Running from a fine lass’ fast gait.

She wasn’t happy not at all.

Her top parts hid by a beach ball.

When Sis nabs him, he won’t see straight.

My entry for this week’s Décima Poetry Challenge No. 18 STAY. here on Ronovan Writes.

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