Bronzed and well-toned he patrols the sand,
Occasionally shading his eyes with a hand
As he stops to watch the white horses run:
An Adonis silhouetted against the sun.
He displays a stomach like a granite slab
As he struts amongst all the bodies of flab
And folds of flesh and cellulite
That really ought to be out of sight.
He pauses to chat and then carries on,
His ego fuelled by the comparison,
And he sees the women all watching him
Wishing their men could be that slim.
With buttocks firm and a chin to match
He knows he'd be the perfect catch
And proudly expands his manly chest,
But to everyone else he looks just like the rest.
the above work is copyright David Axton © All Rights Reserved