Ocean jazz at sunset

A hot crab-happ'nin'-snappity foamed
F'r hours atop the revellers' crest -
The non-stop of drip-drop,
The sunnies and flip-flops,
Our sand-mad thighs - our salty eyes -
Unresting, crashed and roamed the shore.

But now, at muted close of day
More distantly float
Frugal notes
Of oak-englobed lunar fruit
Sung and swum
Through dangling flutes of wine.

Flame-flecked trumpet fire breaks
On bare, bronze-blasted backs -
The brassy playthings
Of half-empty beaches and coves
Where molten, glassy scales quiver
In slender dives, and, rising,
Bleed dry the last of the light
As, with the final
Breathless encroach of night
In which one orb is captured
And the other resurrects

All is silent, save
A lone gull's rapture.