She stood there by the ocean,
The breeze gently lifted her hair.
Of that seagull just above her,
She was totally unaware.

Seemingly floating in the sky,
The seagull’s wings were still.
I think it paused to take good aim,
And drop a mess at will.

Too late she looked above her head,
Where the seagull hovered now.
Then as I watched in horror,
Bird droppings hit her brow.

Her scream pierced the balmy air.
Splat! The stuff hit her face.
Then she saw my camera and me,
And stomped off in disgrace.