The morning star has long since gone

The sun is high in the sky

Shadowless a figure stands

Stranded on Venus sands



Up in the blue and circling

The seabirds watch and wait

For movement of a certain kind

Down on their dinner plate



Where children played a flower lays

Pulled and torn up by its roots

And where it stood,

the empty space just screams...



Down on the flats, baby turtles race

For safety of the big deep

And white caps come crashing in

Indifferent to tender flesh



Shriek of attack, then moving in

A raucous clash, a gourmet din

Of cruel gull beaks

And tearing skin... screaming



Lit by the evening star at Venus sands

Against a blood orange sky

There's a shadow of a figure prone

Abandoned and all alone

Venus sands