Ken Allan Dronsfield

Kite flies high, brisk breezes blow,
smell of coconut oil permeates the air;
waves crashing with a raucous blast,
beach balls bounce on the 4th of July.

Flags flying high, snapping in rhythm;
children running about, kicking up sand.
Planes fly by with banners selling spirits,
a hot dog run on cotton candy days.

The band plays by the old boardwalk;
people scurry like ants to honey drops.
Firecrackers pop and sky rockets swoosh.
It so nice to be away from the rancid city.

Off on a romp, someone´s streaking there
by the water´s edge, to screams and laughter.
Ocean´s cold, nice for polar bears and dares;
Freedom reigns for all on Independence Day.