Desert Island

Clouds are building and tinted opalescent
The sky is pinky golden orange bathed
The sun drops from the sky into the sea
As it hangs it radiates a light stripe
Across the coloured water a path
I stand on the darkening sand awe struck
Should I tread that path or sit by the boat
I listen to the gentle lap of waves
Pebbles rattling as they are disturbed
Perpetual motion the sea progresses
I sit resting my back against the boat
It still feels warm a comfort an anchor
A solo palm tree my companion
Sharing the vista the tranquility
I jump at an intrusive noise a beep
Reluctantly I open my eyes
I stretch and look at an office desk
Piled high with files pens and paperwork
Relaxation over I tackle work