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Rated: E · Poetry · Community · #2009843
A Stroll through Pensacola, Florida
Over the horizon, where the world drops off
and the water is black as night,
a ball of fire arises, bringing our land
to a whole new light.

Sienna, burnt oranges and dazzling pink
paint the sky, reflecting on the rippling water,
creating an oil painting trail.

Lapping ocean waves, meet the snow white sands,
the only gentle roar I know
which can refresh your soul
and lull you to sleep.
The seagulls soar down the shore,
singing their morning, gaa's,
while pelicans make an easy splash
doing their morning fishing.

Old-time
lamp posts
light the path of downtown, where
cobblestone sidewalks run
along the historic district, where many
two-hundred-year-old buildings and houses still stand.
The
spelling of our town has
stayed the same, and many are surprised to find
Pensacola's past is filled with historic events.

Take a boat ride to the interior
of our swamp lands, where river and creeks
snake their way throughout.
Eerily romantic Spanish Moss drapes down
from the branches, while alligators
nest around the huge protruding tree roots.

The sun sets, casting the last light show,
as the shadows descend blurring
water and land into the darkest night.


Theme: I'm coming for a visit.
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