'No Donuts on my Eggs! Now You're Messing With A Son of a Fritz!'

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Guardians of the Playa
Upon the shore where soft waves sing,
And moonlight crowns the tides in spring,
The ancient ones return once more,
To lay their young upon the shore.

The whales arise in silver spray,
Their songs like echoes far away,
While sea turtles in sacred rite,
Dig nests beneath the pale starlight.

But then—roaring through the golden sand,
A beast with wheels, a heavy hand,
A Raptor came, blind to grace,
And left his scars upon this place.

With reckless spins, he tore the ground,
Where fragile shells lay safe and sound,
A careless king of dust and steel,
With no regard for those who feel.

Yet here we stand, the ones who fight,
For nature’s song, for morning light.
We guard this land, we stake our claim,
For those with neither voice nor name.

And though the bully spat and sneered,
His cruelty met the truth he feared—
That honor lives where hearts are strong,
And nature’s will shall right the wrong.

So let the Raptor fade and rust,
Its echoes swallowed by the dust.
While on this playa, wild and free,
The turtles crawl back to the sea.