On the edge of the sea not far from my abode
There is a big stone, high and dry in a cove
Iíve watched a Seagull sit upon that stone
A place he quite clearly thinks is his throne
Other gulls have tried to share this rock
But with a shrill he scared away the flock
Now in solitude without a friend or brood
He scans the clear water surface for some food
He stands in regal splendor as waves roll by
Keeping a sharp look out with his steady eye.
Today, the chance of a small morsel floating by
Does not look very promising, I hear him cry
Soon he will abdicate this regal throne
As the sea once again reclaims itís stone.
Iíll come another day and watch this again
If the weather permits and it does not rain.