I hear waves crashing near
Open skies, blue and clear
Sand, warm beneath my feet
Scrunching my toes, such a treat
Sun beating on my face
Knowing, this is my place
A little boy, not even two
Comes over and says, “For you!”
Hands me a pile of yellow
Little boy, quite the fellow
I look at him with a genuine smile
And look at the little pile
Ocean air makes everything hazy
But I still see, the summertime daisy