Thunder crashing,
lightening flashing,
people dashing for cover,
the rain so heavy
the road is a running river.

In passing a shop
a perfume wafts out from a doorway
and carries me straight into summer,
coconut oil and vanilla,
with undernotes of soft almond.

My mind’s eye drifts to the margin
where rubbery ribbons of seaweed
lay stranded in foam and soft ripples.
The damp sand is firmer and darker.

The sea has been rough.
Dark violet clouds in the dove grey sky
are gradually clearing.
The sun blazes out in a dazzle,
bouncing on glittering water.

The salt air
and the sand in my hair
make it feel sticky and thicker

Hot sun dries the puddles of rain
on steaming hot tarmac
and I’m back in the town again,
longing for crisp juicy peppers,
freshly cut cucumber flesh, sliced lemons
and the pink thirsty heart of a melon.

On a hot sandy beach,
that burned my feet,
I once sipped a cold margarita
in the cool indigo, lavender shade
of a blindingly white umbrella.