Under the boardwalk I crawled for the night

Through the cracks filtered the silver moonlight.

The rhythm of the waves filled my head

The still warm sand was nature’s bed.

I closed my eyes and went to sleep

Then I felt a harsh blow on my feet.

‘Get up and move on’ a voice said loud

Loitering on a closed beach is not allowed.

It was a few hours yet to dawn

When they got me up and to move me on.

That is the problem with the Boardwalk Motel

The accommodations are fine but the hours are Hell.

Raymond Morrow