And the sun shall break forth,
blush clouds pink then shift
seep tinges of deep warm reds.
A lonely gull sits sentinel,
witness to the changing palette
as waves stir the sands.
And somewhere a newborn cries
seeks her mother’s breast
as seedlings sprout in a monet garden.
For this is a new day to claim
cause and determination for joy
because we can.
We touch, we live to love
this day another,
thankful
together.
Sea breeze carries a slight chill
as she pulls the sweatshirt close,
sips hot strong coffee under rising sun.
Later that day, sweatshirt off and visor on
she palms lotion between her hands
rubs coconut scent upon her limbs.
Feet on rail, notebook in hand
ideas float as gulls hover overhead
pen hits paper as birds dive into sparkling sea.
Sun shifts westward, coolness returns
she dons layers again
like words stacked upon the page.
Days in this place
turn into moonbeams
and she retires to be born again.
Cape Cod, Provincetown, little piece of heaven on earth. AND: this turns out to be my first poem published! Provincetown Magazine, October 1 issue, 2015.
Someday, visit Provincetown,
nestled in the crook of Cape Cod’s tip,
at earth’s end and life’s beginning.
Savor the Watermark Inn
her quiet beach in early morn
ripples on sand and gulls overhead.
Long necked cormorants preen
then disappear, dive deep
to reappear fifty yards down shore.
Long Point lighthouse gleams white
stands tall across the waters,
stalwart to all who sail these seas.
Summer sunrise etches pink ripples
on softly lapping waves
and cotton candy clouds.
September sun melts orange red yellow
mirrors foliage on the town side
of fall quiet Commercial Street.
Come see this place my friend,
and serenity will visit your soul.
This poem motivated by a prompt in my September Poetry Challenge Class: Read Postscript by Seamus Heaney…..think about a time you traveled through a landscape that stopped your heart…do take interest in all elements of this poem (Postscripts): place names, references to season, landscape details etc…..he uses the second person “you” in his poem.
sweet purple wet flesh
first bite of plum delicious
your tongue licks my chin
sea salt licks tart sweet
your kiss, standing on the shore
waves crash, passions soar
House ready
spit-shine clean
bathrooms gleam
mirrors spotless
fridge full
door bell rings
and here we go!
Door slams shut
rugs askew
table strewn
bread crust strips
on juicy sticky countertops
legos here and there
quiet echoes everywhere.
Photo by Andrea Kratzenberg.
Sunshine and rainbow rain
banana popsicles and lemon-tart-ade.
Bumble bees with yellow jackets
dandelions and buttercups.
Short sleeved jammies that snap shut
jump on beds and never nap.
Oh how we’ll miss these special times,
the sunlicious days of summer.
I was alone, but for a moment
amidst pealing bells.
Suddenly you were there
tear streaked face buried in my chest.
Memory flash of newborn nestled into me.
And then you were gone
dancing joyfully,
her white veil trailing on your arm.
Our footprints disappeared
in cool damp sand ridges
as we walked, farther and farther
into the wetness of low tide.
Heads bowed,
eyes shaded from glare,
the water glistened
in glorious serenity.
We shared our solitude,
hand in hand
grateful we chose the off-season
to rediscover togetherness.
This is rewritten, using Glisten as a base, the first poem posted here, on March 20th.
We walk, you in front of me
one created flesh and bone
the other born of sun
elongated faceless gray.
Seamlessly
we stroll the beach
arms out wide, now close in
darkness plays with light.
I stop you stop
your head turns as mine.
We follow a gull’s flight
rising from the sea.
If I turn, reverse my course
will you dance behind,
like the kite that zigs and zags
when its master loosens hold?
Revised, revisited from a very early post. How I love Cape Cod and playing with my shadow!
lillian the home poet 