A scraping of palm leaves
Haunts the night air,
As a warm breeze escapes an ink black sea
To play gently on the land.
A rusting municipal sign,
'Beware falling coconuts'.
I walk on nearer the shoreline,
Closer to the hypnotic dream,
Cherishing the precious moment.
Finger tips of ocean,
Lightly caress the flotsam at my feet.
The interfering glow from my hotel diminishes,
Problems swallowed seemingly into darkness
And I am alone with the softly lapping waters.