31 July 2012
Shimmers of gold, In the sunset sun. As hot as fire, But not like the sun.
Spread along the beach, Like jam on toast. As I watch it roast.
It never burns, Not at 100 degrees. Not in any of the seven seas.
Multicoloured, Fragile, Each and every bit.
With its powers used, On on and off. As we speak.
Turns storms into deserts, Rivers into seas, But all in all it's just ordinary, Not extraordinary, Sand
Sand • Opuss № I