Palm Beach Winter Getaway

PALM BEACH WINTER I know she squints her eyes from sunlight straight above as olive hands lay to her skin, as if in love, just barely to escape the falling snow she's gone to where the fools and rich all go and lies out in the sun I'm only dreaming of. She watches in delight, as gulls dip in the sky, manipulating where their wings would have them fly; in waltzes of precision, like the snow they go to where they want their lives to go, but never have an end, their love can never die. Is this not God's caressing--and the earth's delight, His dressing of the trees in simple black and white? How could I leave this world my heart must know to go where only tropic breezes blow, Though falls the snow from dawn, and through the winter's night? I surely see the snowflakes, not the falling snow each one is different from the ones that wait below, just as some individual might be a little strange and different to me, but each is all the same, except in what we know. My lady knows the sun will do her spirits good and if she can be there, then certainly she should! But as for me, I've chosen not to go-- to love each minute that my heart can know, and God shows me the snowflakes, not the snow. And yet, I wonder at our Winter Get-away, and dream of sea gulls, loose and in their play, Palm Beach becomes the place I want to go, away from cold, away from gathering of snow, and in our Paradise, she'll welcome me, I know. © ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet