By Pebble Bay Beach

[With apologies to those who enjoy my poetry (or scorn and mock it) for taking so long between sharing my posts due to working a daily routine which includes helping my eighty-nine year old mum while I learn that New York City is not the place for my future with Nina.
I am on vacation from that world as I post these creative words from that neglected other aspect of my loyal inner self.]

By Pebble Bay Beach

Don’t grow cold on me.
Although in life,
There is war and strife;
Hold onto the cures that might,
Give you peace at night.
Such as me being your man,
Who will more than suffice.

Do not…grow cold on me.
For now almost twice a fortnight,
Upon our collective breast,
This silence is cast against winds
Though they may change directions,
My course is consistent and steady;
Yet, shaken by your sudden surprise absence.
So that when Our Father’s blessing finally comes,
The means to import you and yours;
I will be ready.

Clutch the dreams of your heart.
Even tighter within your fighting fists
Knowing each day we awake;
It carries a blessing and a risk.
A song by Neil Diamond enters my mind,
“Love On The Rocks” lol

Don’t…grow cold on me,
It is embarassing to see!
Allowing me to journey alone like a rudderless boat;
Without word or reason,
When others are gone;
In the disorienting foggy dawns,
That disclaims territory of inevitably changing seasons.

Aroustiday Stoop Sip

>
It Might be that it is the last of May 2012 we can prognosticate “in these-here parts”!
Never-mind not watching television for the past two-plus years.
I ask my neighbor what the weather is to be?
I forget judiciously,
To dial it up on the PC.
He says, “About a hundred percent chance of rain!”
Then I drive to gas-up my “for sale” to-get-to-Nina (reason), car!

Tonight’s feature is a reality show and main event is the group thunder, , lightning and rain moving in seemingly from all directions.
I let my mind and right hand sync, flying freely to write this account, Of the precipitous action,
As occasional lightning illuminates my writing pad.
Thinking of Nina’s “flat” as I wrote the word “pad”, lol, I briefly remember accurately another of our many Skype “dates”.
I know, you ask, “have you ever really MET her?” To that I say “Yes.”
Now back to the air, moving with distant thunder rumbles which do not threaten me.
Heck, I always was one to like to sit outside in the face of a storm moving in!
It is similar to daily living as an adult!
Wind gusts sway the tall trees to and fro; widely and like a windshield wiper.
Similar trees close to my front stoop,
Protect me as my canopy.

Only a sideways wind occasionally makes the raindrop kiss my flesh as I wish Nina would forevermore, truth be known.
I’ll tell anyone the truth!
Blow, wind blow!
Take away my pollen-induced shortness of breath Asthma wheeze. It is why I welcome you!
Wondering how a Ukrainian thunder storm would go;
Hand-in-hand with her holding me close.
Lost car ambles down my dead-end street;
Gustafo makes sway after it.
“Lost In Space”, I always call these vehicles who come this way.
Sometime I say, “Damn, Life!” because I am not where and with who I want and need it not to be this way.
“Work WITH me for a change!”
I survive the initial onsloaught of heavy rain on a Thursday night;
Still not wet under my natural umbrella.
Why can’t I just go at-will where I want to be?
Then just as I look up on a clear night and the moon and distant planets remind me;
Mother Nature has final say as distant, hated plaintive freight trains announce their approval again.