Solare La Rive

White sand and sea instead of garden:
"Finally relaxation in the sun!",
That's what I think, but the joy
Of being freshly creamed still waits.

The light is initially blinding bright,
Drilling mercilessly into my brain.
I pull my glasses from my forehead
Down to my eyes quickly.

I breathe in and close them,
Searching for relaxation in the breeze,
That drives the scent of white blossoms.

And that of children next door:
Vanilla ice cream and Capri Sun.
Relaxation, a pious wish, probably remains.