Beach Boys

Hot steamy summer day…not a cloud in the sky; brilliant blue dome of color – a slight breeze floats by on the up beat of a song dancing through the air; off in the distance sailboats lean, lean, lean stretching canvas and rails dip in the salty sea – flashback summer sweat dripping kisses…glorious sight makes my heart race.

Beach scene high tide, scent of coconut oil is like a time chaser – burst of images black and white, Kodachrome edited memories. Families, babies, teens, college kids, Gran and Pop – fill the sandy shoreline with souvenir beach towels and beach chairs; radiant red, seafaring blue and lemon yellow umbrellas adorn the landscape making up an amazing painters pallet. Aroma therapy and visual overload – in this surrounding I am thrilled to be alive!

Strategically placing myself on the fringes – a space between me and the masses. A buffer from all the chatter and one on one contact – my comfort zone just left of everything and nothing – with one foot hanging over the edge; acting as an anchor keeping me from wandering to far out in an endless sea. A beach day to listen to music – drifting away on notes and combinations of words; all stirring emotions and pushing fantasies for later creative use – deep breath in/exhale – blow. Moments of “shear poetry”.

A group of three “t’ween” boys invade my peripheral vision and my solitude. Soft images flurry past, intense energy…carrying plastic beach shovels – with definite intentions. There were no words exchanged, an innate plan was brewing and clearly understood by all participants.

As much as I tried to ignore this group of adolescent males, (they reminded me of boys from my past) it was impossible…I was captivated by the “boys club” dance – and felt privy after so many years being on the outside secretly looking in, never understanding what made them tick and now I had a clear up front view – camouflaging myself behind a pair of sunglasses instead of my naiveté .

Quickly personalities started to pop…the shy one, the leader, the funny boy – these roles seemed set in stone, not interchangeable. Each knew their character and played it uncomfortably well. Pigeon holed for a moment in time.

I sat back, shades on, ear-buds in and observed with delight!

The boys started to dig a hole in the sand, within 30 minutes it was clearly going to be a very large hole. Occasionally a group of “t’ ween” girls would slowly walk past; seemingly ignoring the boys…a little flip of their hair, arms linked and giggles…boys reacting, doing boy things – they jumped in the 4′ deep hole, threw sand at each other, swore and laughed and dug faster as if they were just injected with high levels of testosterone.

The girls circled around several times, swishing their feet into the sand, hips swaying overly exaggerated this way and that as they walked by. Flirtatious glances exchanged, occasional eye contact and then the uncontrollable bursts of blushing red covered cheeks were a dead give away. A vision of pure innocent seduction; beach boys from long ago…summer in the city. Motown playing and dancing on the sidewalks – sweet delicious memories.

Off in the distance songs from the concession stand began to play summer songs, the hit list…Heatwave, Under The Boardwalk, Girl From Ipanema, In The Summer Time…on and on drum beat, finger snapping melodies swept me away finally into a deep sleep…

© 2014 TrilbyYates


Our Worlds Collided

This time of the year
comes around
sails full
and heart strings pull
….which way do I lean

A hard wind blows
and I still don’t know
how to live this life
…in the darkness

Candle light seeps
through veins of hope
and the night dances
on and on
off in the distance
a familiar song
sings sentimental
I recall the tiniest of detail
emotional tides turn
memories burn
even though
…the flames have faded
yet I continue to dream
of a Newport scene
when our worlds collided…

© 2016 Trilby

There Is No Sound

Gracious words are like honeycombs to the soul…(Proverbs 16:24)

There is no sound
like this
echo’s from place
to place
and back again
there are no moments
like this
hold tight
blow a kiss
to nowhere
carried off
far away
boat ride Galilee
to Old Harbor
with the wind
to my back
and the sun
rising in the east
there’s nothing
keeping my soul
from floating away
when night turns
to day
and black
to gray…

There is no sound like this
that echo’s from place to place
and back again ~

© 2016 Trilby Yates

Dance Away My Fears

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 you hands
and playfully toss it into the air
I wonder if you will
remain so beautiful – in the afterlife
Tear stained face, eyes covered in shades
– to keep out the light
Death comes in with a brute force;
an awakening of sorts – I suppose
It’s the alarm clock of life,
ticking by waking us up to another day;
while visuals flash between
the mind and daydreams
of a past that needs to be
– reckoned with
And all we have is where we stand
right here and in the now
Feet planted firmly in the sand
forever changing
foot prints slip away
beyond the reef
and into the deep blue sea
The past has a hold of my heart
and I can’t seem to set it free
Yesterday is incomplete…so sublime
and if I could do one more thing
If I could go back in time
…step out and rewind
It would be to linger
with you standing in the waves
I would tell you
all the things you
ever wanted to know
Say all the things
you needed me to say
…if I had just one more day
What if I held out my hand
and you never let go
Would the Angels come
between us and tare us apart
So I will try not to cry
for you sweet darlin
I’ll try not to shed another tear
and I promise to walk along the shoreline
and dance away all my fears
…dance away my fears

©2015 TrilbyYates