In August's warmth, by ocean's side,
A magical moment, impossible to hide,
The first golden plover graces the scene,
In Hawaii's paradise, where dreams convene.
Amidst the palms, a shimmering sight,
Wings of gold catching the sun's pure light,
A traveler returned from distant lands,
Bringing stories written on shifting sands.
As summer wanes and autumn draws near,
The plover appears, its call crystal clear,
A herald of change, a symbol of time,
In Hawaii's embrace, a rhythm sublime.
August's embrace, a tropical song,
The plover's arrival, a journey long,
In its fragile form, a resilience shines,
A reminder that life's tapestry intertwines.
Oh, golden plover, enchanting and free,
Your presence a gift to both land and sea,
With every flutter, every graceful bend,
You weave a story that knows no end.
So let us gather 'neath the August sky,
As the first golden plover takes to fly,
In Hawaii's haven, where moments unfold,
A treasure of nature, a story of old.
Copyright, Wayne Becker