Salsa Seashell Poem by Reynaldo Casison

The evening is an ocean wave,
The seashells warm to sigh,
She dreams to drifters,
And caresses by the shore

The evenings are sweet,
She's dancing on the shore

Saturday is its own year,
She dreams,
To the Crescents ear

And she dances the Salsa,
To the honey tune,
of iris waves,

The evenings are sweet,
She's dancing on your shore,
She dreams to drifters,
And Caresses by the shore

We gaze to the Champagne sky,
With the harbor butterflies,
And the seashells warm to sigh,
She dreams to drifters,
And Caresses by the shore

Her Salsa is fine,
Her Salsa is fine,
Her Salsa is fine
Reynaldo Casison