To Soften the Sharp Teeth of Life

The --Cruel world is revealed often during my daily tasks...

To Soften the Sharp Teeth of Life

 

Music on a white sanded beach

Carrying to my resting ears

As I recline in the soft grains still

Moist from the evening tides,

Looking at the distance before me

Seeing all kinds of varying shapes and muted colors

Children running across the wet sand with splashes

Following their moving shadows,

They come

Towards each other with full pails and plastic shovels

Their bright hues are festive and jolly as

The sweet aroma of my burning joint

Carries away the burdens of yesterday

As I sip from my cold Stella in hand,

And listen to Kenny Chesney arriving

From the long distance down the glistening shoreline

His voice about an Island girl fills

my

Head,

The warm sand caresses my moving toes,

Waves of crystal blues crash in against the slick rocks of dark

Hues and send droplets into the humid air

In reflecting drops of misty greens.

Vacationers in slick suits pass by with their bursting coolers

as I enjoy

The shade from the sun under my gigantic

Striped umbrella that is tucked low against

The back of my tilted low chair of stretched fabric.

 

A boy is making silly gestures at a young girl,

They

Catch my sight as I take another long

Puff

Her white lacy hat blows away into the surf

 and he dives for it,

Before it can disappear in the moving liquid.

 

The sweet--but pungent smoke lifts my mood

Soothing my raw nerves and erasing bad thoughts

From a lingering work assignment

Another hit,

And I'm feeling very comfortable in the shade

A slow fuzziness fills my tired brain

Giving me instant happiness,

The scene becomes a watercolor that I wish to

Paint soon,

Like the many scenes around back yard flames

Under the tiny stars.

This is a

Descending welcome comfort that

Causes me to close my eyes

And dream of a warm night with

The scented sea close and me burrowing under the sheets

With someone special after being alone for so long.

 

My mood is placid in ways I desire,

Nothing to explain or be judged for,

In a world where my softest places

Are often poked and made terribly sore,

Because I feel too much and care too often,

It makes me avoid the things I should do.

So, I feel ridiculous most of the time in public

And I long for the times where everything is soft

And blended around the sharp edges. --J. E. Cook ©2017

 

 

Author's Note

Thanks for reading!

Reviews

[Brent]

Wow, your vivid descriptions of the beach and the sensations that you're feeling are incredible. I'm easily able to feel the warm sand, smell the salty air, and hear the kids playing in the water.

The world can be a cruel and unrelenting place. But, if you have a nice beach to chill out at, life isn't as bad as it seems.

[Josie E. Cook M. A.]

Yes, that is what it is about the day of rest.

[Josie E. Cook M. A.]

Thank you for reviewing this one!

[Coyote Poetry]

Hello dear Josie. I liked this poem. I went with you to beautiful places and thoughts. We need them in old age. Thank you for sharing your powerful and worthwhile thoughts. I did enjoy.
Coyote

[Josie E. Cook M. A.]

Thanks! :)

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome Josie.