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Salt-weathered planks hum
under barefoot dawn wanderers—
tide's breath lingers long.
The bridge sighs with old stories,
rusted whispers to the gulls.
A leonine sun of August's stately presence,
see the maple and oak leaves,
no longer a fresh green of youth.
Children will put their beach pails away,
when September's boughs drop acorns.
It's the closing chapter of the carefree months,
when sweethearts on the moonlit boardwalks
part.
I enjoyed iced coffee on the patio,
when the newly-mowed lawn days set us
to daydreaming,
watching wrens, bluebirds, sparrows,
in avian freedom,
my playing grandchildren soon will be
back in school.
Time for harvesting another summertide's
memories-
an August goodbye,
and hello to the aging man of autumn.
For a fun vacation, I suggest San Diego might be for you
A city with lots of sunshine and warm temperatures and plenty to do
Its proximity to the border gives you lots of Mexican food choices to try
Endless beaches with boardwalks for strolling nearby
The zoo provides you with a spectacular array of animals far and wide
Balboa Park with its stunning architecture has to be tried
The biggest swap meet you have ever seen
Something for everyone I can tell because I have been
Little Italy is a part of town, and great Italian cuisine sure to delight
The old town where it all began, a taste of Mexico, a must-see sight
A few miles away Legoland can be found
Children can build things and take rides that will lift them off the ground
Coronado Resort is not to be missed with its idyllic charm and golden-era look
If you want to have a wonderful holiday in SanDiego you should book
O, to dream of mythic trails, velvet underfoot
to float on whipped-cream waves of desire
To feel your soft contours sigh in sync with mine
mint vapors to inhale, on moonstruck wishes to dine
To saunter down sandy boardwalks and disappear
sans white buds or jeweled baubles in ageless ears
Missionaries unflinching, for unrepentant good
ere sunrise flickers out 'neath ashes of widowhood
Breezes on boardwalks
that carry its essence
Suntans are fragranced
by its very presence
Beach balls are bandied
within its cachet
Whitecaps that rush salted
flurries my way
Taffy that’s pulling my nose
to the door
Sugared delight
cotton candy galore
Coconut sandies that
flavor my eyes
One whiff of chocolate
I’m hooked, no surprise
Perfume of lemons
on girls strolling by
Peanuts’ aroma
by gift of the sky
French Fries and burgers
and hot dogs for you
Make everybody
know just what to do
Oh, how I long for
the scent of Summer’s day
Whisper sweet harvest moon
Cradle me in cooler climes
Softly show me how willingly the tree let's
Its leaves turn from green to gold
The tree does not complain of age and change
The Leaves do not seek to be what they were
They gently grace into reds and yellows
then browns
The grasses are dressing in green again
like a last glorious dance
The kind pansies are resurrecting
and mums are starting to burst
the sky is sometimes a stubborn grey but
then brilliant blue
New England fall has arrived
Like a wagon filled to the brim
hosting harvest parties
Encouraging long walks in crunchy leaves
down long winding tree-covered paths
out by cranberry bogs cresting in reds
and out on long boardwalks that stretch in woody perfection to the sea
The wild parties of summer drunkenness have departed the shores
The embers of clam bakes and firecrackers are finally at rest
The streets are passable and the merchants are sleeping in late and only open when they want to be
The rains finally came and even the dogs are quiet now
Heaven is on Earth here now
Cape Cod in September
Along the Shore
children playing by the score
thrashing, crashing waves endure
echoing power by the hour
The smell of salt is in the air
beach balls bouncing everywhere
seagulls drifting by the pair
boardwalks are the thorough fare
cool, crisp water relief
saving sweltering bodies grief
Marine life abundant feast
your tribulations are released
A pungent taste upon your lip
every time you take a dip
Oh yes, there's quite an allure
Along the quenching liquid sandy seashore
word count 82
See the Victorian style homes of an earlier day.
There are plenty of them around Cape May.
The sea birds seem to laugh as they fly.
Ubiquitously, they fill the summer sky.
Frolic in the sand and the surf by the sea.
This is the southernmost tip of New Jersey.
Walk along the boardwalks and taste the salt water taffy.
This vacation spot is a place for the whole family.
“Ice cream, ice cream
two for a quarter”
but we were already lining up
Mr. Softee’s* song beckoned
sultry vacation days in the suburbs
no air-conditioning back then
not one neighbor had a pool
so “Slip ‘N Slide was the way to keep cool
bedtime came before summer’s sunset
but only after Dad’s nightly stories
sometimes funny, sometimes scary
he made them up as he went along
weekends were wild at the Jersey Shore
sun, sand, surf and boardwalks
but it was the family time I loved most
as I dreaded that first school bell
*Mr. Softee was an ice cream truck similar to the Good Humor man.
Entry for the “Summer” Contest
Summer in the Suburbs and at the beach
Milton Bradly....
Condos castles etched in accretions dye along
The boardwalks flower made sorbitol scenes
Number twenty-twos scented sunrises, pastel piers
Neon lights enticing dreamscopes of, breathe....
The box-cars mundane roulette wheels
Spinning mirages of polyesters white gloved, hopes
Let it ride; everything I own upon, number twelve
Moonglow glazed margarita rainbows for, you and I
Cinderella, she folds....
"Games," lots and lots of, games!?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
{...."Monopoly"....}
yesterday's love underneath my pillow...
at night before I go to sleep...
hoping that dreams of you are sweet...
yearning to dream of that far off place...
where we explored possibilities...
hot kisses given in candlelight...
a brush with passion, whispered sighs...
I float, weightless, over deserted beach...
past boardwalks and haunted seascapes...
through shuttered, cobwebbed vacant rooms...
candlewax remnants on a dusty floor...
searching high and low for what evades...
the sun rises high seeping through my blinds...
the pillowcase wet from forsaking dreams...
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