She was a dancer.
She was a dancer. She was a dancer and I was the Monterey Irish Pub drunk. She could paint the sea, she could paint the forest and she could paint beautiful faces and… Continue reading
She was a dancer. She was a dancer and I was the Monterey Irish Pub drunk. She could paint the sea, she could paint the forest and she could paint beautiful faces and… Continue reading
California a dreaming. My first true love was the sea. Always willing to welcome me back and she was willing to listen to the quiet poet. I miss the Pacific and I hope.… Continue reading
The sea and the chess game. Old Poet set-up the chess game and I opened the bottle of tequila.The old man had few friends. People see an old man with no-place to go.They… Continue reading
The sea. The old poet told the young poets, old ladies and the kids. 1- Bit by bit, piece by piece. We are create puzzles with our words. We must be kind to… Continue reading
Her Gypsy heart. 1- Her eyes, clear blue like the sea, her voice, gentle and sweet. She told me, open the locked doors, wide. We decide if our life and journey is, a… Continue reading
The perfect sea. The golden dust was upon us and the warm day made the sea sweeter and more wonderful. You released your sundress and swirl in a free-fall dance near the sea,… Continue reading
Into the west. Westward bound winds are calling my name, and the Pacific Ocean is calling to me. Please Johnnie, please come dance with me, I am waiting for you. I will keep… Continue reading
By the sea. I told her, I want little. When I return home to you. Please meet me at the Monterey pier and please wear your dancing shoes. I need a dance with… Continue reading
She was a sea dancer. She was a painter; part-time poet and she was a sea dancer. She could paint the sea, she could paint the forest and she would paint the faces… Continue reading
One more cup of coffee. She was a California dream, in her eyes. You could see the great sea. In her voice, she could take away all my sadness. I went to her… Continue reading