Slightly Tipsy

The Gin makes me want to write.  Sometimes it comes without the  drink and sometimes not.
Squeeze that lime one mo time and I just might give you a rhyme.
Beach calls that summertime drink.  A glass reflecting blue ocean and white caps with sparkles of sand lying under a striped towel.
Cloud shadows lay their Ever-moving shapes across the beach umbrella.
A boom box blares its rock of the 1980s.  A memory of another time.

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