Popcorn, seagulls fly
Squawk and argue in the blue
For the puffy bits
Sand rubs under foot
Heat and grit urge us to dance
Into splashing surf
At the end of day
Castles crumble in the waves
Misting rosy air
Hold my hand while we
Walk through riffs of steel guitar
Down the sticky boards
Wind blows cool and moist
Moonbeams trembling on the deep
Winking at the night
I like it, nice work.
Great...almost like being "home"...I lived in OC on 12th and Baltimore nice 2-story walk up! I can almost smell Fisher's and Julia's! Thanks...
Dear Karen, Oh! Love this poem. Love it. Under the board walk down by the sea. Ahhh! I remember dancing with my baby down by the sea. You are good and I can't wait to read more. Please give me more. Bye! Teresa Jacobs