I Won’t Leave You

Aside

DSCN3834This poem first appeared in Journey On : Beauty and Grit Along the Way published in 2012. It has since undergone revision and will appear in the upcoming poetry collection titled Winter’s Call.

 

 I Won’t Leave You

You and I have many dusty roads still to walk together,

and blood red sunrises we have not seen

sitting side by side on a quiet beach.

There are many seashells

not picked up; memories not yet made.

We know the hope of a radiant summer morning,

and the deep peace of midnight stars.

 

We have laughter to remember, tears to brush away;

taking in the scent of rain on the wind and hay in a far off meadow.

In soft December while the snow falls draping the mountains,

we stroll alongside together, you clasping my hand,

as more colors appear…

leaving none behind.

Tech vs Serendipity

 I found this quote on a blog from the New Yorker and wondered what others think of this. Not having everything electronically at your fingertips allows for a level of serendipity that I value and encourage in life, especially when traveling. I think with technology we�re allowed to have lives filled with convenience, but when the convenience takes away some of the joy from everyday circumstances, what are we really compromising?

Giving the Beach Back to the Tourists

DCF 1.0August brings forth the winding down of summer days and nights. Soon Nature’s landscape will begin slow quiet changes often without notice. Before the calendar rolls in September, I give you a poem of quiet summer reflection. A moment in time when evening settles in and memories are held dear…..

 

Midnight slips out of translucent skies,
my salty skin is whitewashed with splashes of light.
Beads of sweat trickle between white breasts
moonlight arouses my calm center
as we lie on a bed of sand and shell.
 
Tied loosely to moorings,
far off fishing boats bobble and creak.
The Atlantic murmurs, channel markers clang
under a spill of silver stars.
 
Quivering beneath the elegant canopy,
I reveal myself to bursts of dream light,
my flesh rhyming with yours.
 
The whimsical tides jump and play with the gulls;
breezes swish through sea oats and beach grass.
Your fragrance surges among
temperamental pleasures,
summons the waves to crest again and again.
 
In the lavender-streaked dawn, we search the beach
for tossed undergarments, and washed up treasures
before tourists stomp on sun bleached boardwalks
in their cavalier march towards the sea.