Pacific Tides

Alone at last - I walk along a distant Western shore.
Wet sand shimmering like gold within the sun.
Gulls gliding and rejoicing
as the seals beat applause.
Sea otters floating lazily
just out of reach of more.

Pacific tides - cerulean.
Discovery of yet another color that is real.
The Orient is almost present here.
The view goes on forever.
And at the edge of human sight,
the sky bows down in drenched delight.

Bothered in the afternoon by social etiquette.
But then the sun began to set
among the clouds that once seemed white and puffy
A kaleidoscopic vision etched its portrait on my soul.
The night was young and I was growing younger.
I couldn't help but take another stroll.

Music played - so sweet and clear -
Electric violin held dear.
Memories arose in old love songs.
I could have wept there till the dawn
broke over Eastern mountain ranges.
Sirens whispered endlessly
in streams of drifting dreams.

Other days brought visions of Big Sur.
Cliffs withstood the crazy crashing there.
A need to play within the caves
before the tide would turn around again.
The days flew by. Departure came too soon.

The memories are sweet and clear,
even in Midwestern afternoons.
Perhaps I'll make it back someday,
to endless shores where love can play
and live within a friendly town
that's sheltered by the bay.

At one again - where golden sands
shimmer in a sunlit wind
and me...

? Michaelette ?

6/10/2002
Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .