The Sun, the Scene, the Sea and Me

My lazy gaze pans
beneath another sun
like a hot cross bun
as recorded sounds
from violins and things
serenade
all those able to hear
as a glassy sea
reveals barely a ripple
marked only
by a canoe's slim wake
as one lone bird
then a flock
appears
and just as suddenly disappears
as a quartet abreast
stroll by the water's edge
and a launch
heads out to sea
as the music
complements the day
by playing a Scottish reel or jig
joyfully
in the languorous warmth
from
a brassily shining patch of sky
as sprays of tiny buttercups
and daisies grow
amidst clumps of grass
and sand.