Beaches

Some places,
Pretty dark places,
Hiding out by magical rock staircases.
From there we can climb up
towards tumbling trees,
The blue sky silhouettes us;
the stargazers.
A city of sandcastles rot below us,
We watch slow spider-horses
crawl from their caves.

Mirages, like the ones
we cannot see in the dark
hover infront of us,
As we tiptoe
below sleeping cloud goblins
then over the children of the sea,
As they creep
between rock-pools.
Sanity comes with the sun -
we watch its
silver stain our sea.

And with the sunlight,
A golden forest of butterflies.