It's quietly summer outside
When Sunday lies still and hot
An occasional bird comes visiting
Through the bending fig tree stops
Soon everyone's gone to the beach.
A singing with flapping wings
Within a heat haze searing
Blackbird seeks rest and moisture
None to be found he's fearing
But everyone's gone to the beach.
A rogue of a fly keeps buzzing
Throughout the long day passing
Soft breeze through waving grass
Oh end this summer soon asking
When everyone's gone to the beach.
Suffer ye not the dryness
Come autumn with misty breathing
When summer gives up its hold
The seasons soon to be freezing
Not everyone's gone to the beach.
Sunday seethes sapping the ground
Till moonbeams light my way
Casting silvery softness near
Upon life's pillow end of day
Everyone's home from the beach.
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