A Beautiful Pome.

I got up earlyish (not dawn),
On Friday morn and took a train,
To CastiGLIoncello beach,
(My last week’s try had been in vain
For though I planned to sea to go
The weather played me false and so
With my vacation time a-wastin’
I spent the morning in the station)

I’m pleased to say the town was sweet,
It’s really quite a charming place
Few tourists, quiet, off the beat,
Quite far from where the rats all race
Trees line the coast beyond the beach,
It’s clean and sunny, there I swum,
And shade is still within one’s reach
(Sun got a little warm for one)

The sea was blue, the sand-–not gold
But brownish coloured, truth be told
Yet warm and smooth and good for naps
Though now I find it in my daps*
And in true time-respected fashion
It ended up inside my rations.

While on the train, as reading palled,
My writing plans began to foment
And so, with small regard for style (or scansion),
I share these special Tuscan moments.

I understand that you may think,
That on my hands I’ve too much time.
For as you see, for just today,
This work, my blog, I’ve made it rhyme.

(* trainers)