I wear my canvas, rope-soled espadrilles
They’re comfortable as I walk the deserted esplanade
The morning sun is barely rising overhead, he gives a nod
I have the world all to myself, reverent peaceful jewel
Breakers on the beach are quietly murmuring, foam-monks cloistered,
I have yet to learn the language of their words

But it’s hurry-up before I’m late again, seconds ticking by, so loud
“Time’s a’ wasting,” says the hustle bustle of the seaside city
Work is calling and I put the coffee on, additionally
Make sure everything is set for the thronging breakfast crowd
They’ll ask for our famous scrambled omelet, cheesy eggs fontina
I know the grumbling language of a hungry world’s cuisine

The morning rush is over; tables cleared, dishes done
Just an errant customer or two to serve, affectionately
I have a bit of time to read again, a double shot of eclectic poetry
My mind absorbs vast feelings and emotions, wild abandon
And I lose myself in four leaf clover wanderings, un-bewildered
I’m privy to the language of its free thought written words

The noontime crowd is close at hand
Children burned and overtired, bright-sandaled cyclones
We have the best of cool relief, ice cream cones,
Vanilla, chocolate dipped with nutty sprinkles fast expand
Their smiles and giggles say they have no cares
Their language is what makes the world go round, Mon Cher

It’s 3pm and my shift is over, I walk out into the hazy din
So many people, irritating voices on the avenue
A jumble cranking out a million points of view
Cross talk in idle speculations, wealthy businessmen
Their conversations, distracting and annoying
I have no need to understand their moneyed language ploy

Long day twilight intervenes, day-trippers now depart
I can walk alone in silence upon the shifting sand
Lazy curling waves caress my feet and toes, first-hand
Day by day, life’s lessons learned, I gain a jump-start
Listen closely to the salty breeze, its margarita tongue
Engulfs me in the beauty of its liquid language, patiently sung