Clifton Poem by Gert Strydom

I walk down the hill
and on the beach there are rocks
that rise here and there where proud girls
lie without bikini tops and in the distance
a ship sails past and a seagull hangs screeching
but on the wind there is the smell of suntan lotion,
the see rolls in and splashes foaming
and a tinfoil container does float out
do catch my eye shining
when the rich lie everywhere and tan,
the sun is hot and hangs high
and some people are hand in hand
where very much in love they walk past
and the day is beautiful and open.