My words are a direct reflection of what is being played out in my mind. For artistic purpose and dramatic effect I have duct-tapped the "edit" button…
The wind blows across the harbor And I'm aware the feel isn't the same No east coast bend or sudden slap Across the face gusts or galePacific Ocean has an opposite vibration It rattles to the bone; shakes the docks it doesn't rollAnd a shadow from the past hovers It doesn't dance or shimmy around …
Walking the shoreline winter winds toss sea foam into the air - (Yes I digress) a familiar tag line used so often, the past collides with the present - life and all of its ups and downs and glory. Glory, its intentions; seriously not lost on me. ...and as if on autopilot (yet another cliché) …
The rain is falling Wind is singing songs Beyond the dunes Dark clouds form overhead And the waves have Kicked up a notch Perfect back drop For a romantic at heart Pinned with dedication To my worn out sleeve I walk barefoot in the tide Emotions and passion Rush in pulling at my vulnerabilities But …
Flickering flash light sparkling florescent glitter weaving shadowy reflections and sounds vibrating - Imagine: tiny poetic dancers movements fluttering on stucco walls texture rubs the senses with twirling drips of a grand illusion fan fare and flags waving... with no peaceful conclusion - Yet the heart continues to pose question after question without clarity - the …
The past seeps into some kind of abstract perspective My own different from yours - I am sure My spin, my angle from where I sleep never falls short of illusive Yours, off in the distant fog - sails full wind blows coast to coast, shore to shore drop off You catch sea foam in …
Trilby Yates 