It was a warm Sunday. About 25⁰C. We went to the beach. As I was sitting on the rocks, I wrote two stanzas:

Amidst the sound of the rubber on the road,
By the tall standing structures, the wealthy man's abode,
As I hear splashes against the lime,
I sit here so lost in time.

Travelling miles, they end at my feet,
Waves: bringing sanity to the heat,
As I wondered if they bring to land, sweet or salt,
A voice calls, it's sweet it's sweet.

Well that might look very childish. But that is because I was very young the last time I wrote any poetry and I haven't really read/written much after that.