Bare Feet
Squeak.
Walking and talking, the seagulls are squawking,
bare feet in the sand near the shore,
summer is almost here; more salads, my dear,
Then we came back the next day for some more.
There is barbecue’s sizzling; the kids won’t stop grizzling,
and the sand’s so hot it feels it’s on fire,
we race to the water, like sheep to the slaughter,
To satiate one burning desire.
It’s clear and calm in the water,
the sky holds hands with the sea,
reflections that sparkle like diamonds,
What a wonderful place to be.
Whilst we speak, our footsteps squeak,
under our bare feet as we walk in the sand,
then to regain our power, we stand under the shower,
Then we wander away hand in hand.
Summer is here; sip on a cold beer,
put the windows down in the car,
sit in the shade; it is heaven made,
That’s the way Dinky-Di Aussies are.
Wearing bare feet feels so neat,
stretch your toes and walk on the grass,
call for more drinks; it feels good, methinks,
And call for the waiter to refill your glass.
Walk around bare feet in the evening,
walk around bare feet during the day,
don’t wear them to work, but please never shirk,
Wear them when you’re out to play.
Some can’t do without them,
that’s shoes I’m referring to,
so, undo the laces and remove all traces
Or resemblance of a shoe.
©
David Rudder
Summer 2022
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