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