walking .. tripping .. half running

we paused on the new footpath

a narrow trail through the forest

we'd recently cut with machetes

leading to lazarre point beach

a most beautiful strand of white sand

along a sharp curve in the chaotic river

most could reach this hidden paradise

either by boat or by our exclusive trail

just wide enough to barely walk

I mean there's nothing to compare

lying upon cotton sheets .. beach towels

listening to some great classic rock and roll

smoking marijuana .. getting stoned high

drinking ice cold beer with a bevy of beauties

funniest thing happened .. someone complained

seems our loud music had caused a disturbance

local police were called in sometime that night

quickly we extinguished our small bonfire

covered all with plenty of dirt and sand

laid low .. then fired up the bong again

everyone smiling .. passing it all around

laughing loud when we came to the realization

police cars were flashing lights .. red and blue

eerily reflecting off of the river's glassy surface

local police were trying to find us

to no avail .. for we'd become quiet

cracking up under our beer breath

radio's volume turned very. very low

branches snapped under the cops feet

they were shining their issued flashlights

up and down all along the river's dark bank

yet only oak trees and foliage were there

no access for them to reach our side

from across the river they cursed

hot damn .. we'd tears in our eyes

from laughing so damn much .. so hard

all occurred before mr. smith had arrived

I reckon that's the reason he'd shown up

radio screamed out lynerd skynerd's .. free bird

Copyright @ November 2014

StandingBear