As summer ends, the beach still calls for me to come and sit,
and mindlessly watch the sun set in pastel sky,
I'll search for shells
and buried treasure.
While waves roll in,
each color will slip into inky night.
When I have come with happy heart to sixty years and ten,
I'll buy a boat and sail away upon a summer sea;
And in a little lonely isle that's far and far from men,
In peace and praise I'll spend the days the Gods allow to me. . . .
. . . For when I come with happy heart to sixty years and ten,
I fondly hope the best of life will yet remain to me;
And so I'll burn my foolish books and break my futile pen,
And seek a tranced and tranquil isle, that dreams eternally.
I'll turn my back on all the world, I'll bid my friends adieu;
Unto the blink I'll leave behind what gold I have to give;
And in a jewelled solitude I'll mould my life anew,
And nestling close to Nature's heart, I'll learn at last . . . to live.
-Beachcomber by Robert William Service
Anna Maria, Florida
August 2010