The laborious work day is now done
All the tools are cleaned and put in the shed
Giving my thanks to the now setting sun
With a broad smile into the house I tread
This night in June will be bright for certain
For the moon is full much color it will spread
It will be a grand show second to none
Creating sights to be stored in my head
It’s the first night of the strawberry moon
The ball in the night sky will not be white
Gathering its color will make you swoon
Listening to nightingales sing their tune
I’m wishing to remain outside all night
But is will be strawberry picking soon
On the Boardwalk
She stands there staring motionless,
As a mannequin in the store.
The wind blowing against her dress,
Her hair like waves against the shore.
Her neck is fully stretched upward,
With her softness shown to the sun,
While her lips formed to say a word,
An expression without burden.
Wondering if she is aware,
That I stare at her pensively,
Or maybe she does but doesn’t care,
That I’m drinking in her beauty.
More intoxicating than wine,
Making my mind begin to sway.
Deep in dreams that she could be mine,
But she smiles, turns and walks away.
Such a gutless buffoon am I!
Nothing but a straw filled lion,
Lacking courage to even try.
This is why my life’s so barren!
Breaking Waves, William Trost Richards (1899)
Palm trees with extended arms wave us on,
As if they are long lost friends we’re to meet.
Sandals in hand we dash across chiffon,
Feeling the welcomed warmth beneath our feet.
Throngs of seagulls welcome us to the shore,
As they fly by looking what is for lunch.
The high rolling waves yelling out their roar,
A gift of new shells they leave in a bunch.
Sun dipped offshore breezes apply calmness,
For the moment making woes go away.
Gladness is invoked as the day passes,
Smiles show we would have it no other way.
The sun and clouds create quite a display,
Sliding softly off the edge of the sea,
Signaling the sad ending of the day,
But the moon above says there’s more to be.
Cristina I, Pietro Annigoni (1967)
Magnetically frozen in my place,
I’m allured by the stillness of your face.
The electricity of your being,
Producing in me a calming feeling.
Who are you who has captivated me?
Holding my heart hostage with your beauty,
Before you have spoken a single word,
Confusing every thought making them blurred.
A vain attempt to understand your mood
Are you reminiscing of being wooed
Or of deeper thoughts more devotional
Surely you grasp at an intangible
Filled with desire to gain your attention
But timidly fearing your reaction
Continue to stand as a mannequin
Drinking in your beauty the best I can
Sensing that you do not know I am near
But to move a foot closer do I fear
I paint a picture of you in my heart
And with great sadness I turn to depart