The pretty flower near the sea.

For a Monterey, Ca. friend.

The pretty flower near the sea.

I was station at Fort Ord for three years from December 1991 to May 1994. I would walk the long beach from Fort Ord. to downtown Monterey, Monday thru Thursday. I read poetry every Tuesday at the Monterey Coffee shop. I befriended many and they called me the Poet.

I would  stop and talk to a woman, who painted the sea and the faces of the tourist. I called her my Pretty Flower and I would bring her small gifts. Just some hostess cakes and chocolate milk. She liked the Suzy Q's. She would bow to me and she would tell me. Thank you my kind prince. What is my payment for such gifts of wonder?

I would tell her. My payment is a song, maybe a story? Maybe a kiss on the cheek? She laughed at my words and she told me. Once they locked me up and they told me I was crazy. They released me in Ohio in 1988 and I hitchhiked till I found the sea. I painted in the hospital and the hospital sold my paintings for me. I had money and I knew no-one. In San Francisco, I was painting the wild and dancing Pacific. A kind lady offered to buy the painting and she owned a Gallery in Monterey. I told her okay and she asked me. Where do you live? I told her. I don't have a home yet, I never had one.

She made me come to Monterey. She allowed me to stay in her home till I found a place to live. Her name is Betty. Now I have a home and many friends. I love you Johnnie, the poet. You call me "Pretty Flower". I have always wanted to be a pretty flower and loved by the sun.

Her real name was Laura Sue and she was small in size, small in features and she love to smile. She told me last year. I don't like my name. Please dear poet. Give me a pretty name. She wore colorful Summer and Spring dresses. Her legs were strong. I would walk with her on the Monterey beach for hours. I would listen to her speak and she held my hand like a child. She was forty-two in age. Her face, still so gentle and kind. She was beloved by the business owners. They watched her and they kept her safe. I told her on a Sunny Tuesday. Your name  will be. Pretty Flower. 

She hugged me and she kissed my face cheeks. She told me. I am Pretty Flower now. I told her. She was. She had gathered a lot of money, selling her paintings. Dear Betty ensured the money was banked and safe. She had a small apartment in Downtown Monterey. I would cook for her three days a week. She could paint a detail sky and she couldn't cook a egg. On a Monday I went to her Home with fresh hamburger and some tomato sauce. She would play the Fleetwood Mac songs and she  would dance while I cooked. She loved the spaghetti. I would prep small salads for her and portion of the spaghetti into small containers. I loved watching her dance. She was so happy and she made me happy.

She befriended a Hippy girl name Barbara. Me and Barbara ensured she had food  to eat. Barbara made Jewelry and she sold the jewelry in a shop on the Monterey pier. She was a beauty for the ages. Long Auburn hair, serious dark brown eyes and a heart of gold. She loved the innocence of Pretty Flower.

Pretty Flower told me once. I had a family once in Ohio. They said I was crazy and they committed me. They never visit me and I was alone. A kind nurse gave me a paint brush and some colored paints. I painted the sea for her. The nurse ensured I had painting materials. I painted in the hospital for 20 years. She told me. I was talented and I needed opportunity. I remember the nurse Betty put me on bus to Florida. She had a friend with a big house and I would be safe. I left the bus in Knoxville and I followed the Sun and I wanted the Pacific. I was lucky. A Truck driver going to San Francisco. Allowed me to be with him. He was very kind, a old man with a gentle voice. He worried for me and I told him. I was a prisoner for twenty years and I need to know the taste of freedom. He understood. He dropped me off in the City of San Francisco. I remember he told me and gave me a sheet of paper. Here is my sister phone number in the city of San Francisco. Please call her. If you need help. Please be careful. I learn in those five days. More kind people than the mean ones. I wasn't alone.

Now I have many friends in Monterey and I have you dear Johnnie. If I had a brother. I want a brother, like you. Tonight I will go to the Monterey Poetry reading. Please write a poem about me. And I did.

At the Monterey Poetry reading. I read these words.

"Pretty Flower..

The prettiest gal in Monterey. I do love.

She dances with the sea and she loved her Irish coffee.

Pretty Flower, with her heart of gold.

Please stay the same.

You showed me.

Gentle and kind heart can win.

Please paint me the never-ending sea and

please allow me to see your smile everyday of my life."

Barbara and Pretty Flower clapped their hands. Little Flower asked. Can we go to the pier and buy some Irish coffee? Barbara took my hand, kissed my lips. She told me and Little Flower. Many Irish coffees and we shall dance for the sea tonight.

Coyote dancing.

Author's Note

A dream poem. Came to be a sweet dream.

Reviews

[AYVID N]

Life and the wonderful people we meet along the way.
The kindness of strangers is so truly amazing.
Pretty Flower had a unique and special life. She flowered in adversity and made your life beautiful.
To dance for the sea! Now that's just so good to read.

[Coyote Poetry]

I danced with the sea once dear Divya. My friend talked me into riding a kayak in the Pacific ocean. I learn need two people to get back on the kayak. A large wave knock the kayak rolled over. The seals surrounded me. Hit me gentle, like I was part of the sea. I was saved by a strong California girl. She held the Kayak and she towed me into the bay. Little Flower was very special. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[AYVID N]

You've had a wonderfully eventful life. I wish we all learnt to live in the moment freely as you. Life can be amazing if we follow our hearts and appreciate the beauty in others. Have a great day, dear Coyote.

[~Sarah~ Idríel T..]

Pretty flower, such a beautiful name. Who would not want to have a poem that's written about themselves? Words can be use to describe many things and hopefully we use them to love and peace.

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree dear Sarah. I loved Monterey in 1992. Just poets, writers, artist and musicians. I return and Monterey changed. Now too many people. Thank you for reading and the comment.