When all is said and done
I would rather be sitting in the sun
On Friday
Looking at yachts and masts
And feasting on god’s repast
Drinking wine
While the sea goes past –
Little waves that sparkle here and there,
That carry chocolate wrappers and plastic tears.
And though blinded by Sol streaming in
Onto these two crystal glasses
Full of microscopic spheres of fun,
We salute you, oh midday sun.