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Geno Cattouse Mar 2014
I remember from my first memories with all senses humming waking up on Sunday mornings to the squealing seagulls. The smell of briney sea air was sharper

On most sunny sunday
mornings I would awken and lay in bed wake..dreaming for what seemed like hours.
The smells of grandma's rose and flower garden mingled with the smell of sunny Sundays.
The BBC wafted in through kitchen and bedroom windows.Mozart and Sinatra tag teamed  against The Ink Spots and, Stan Getz.  The Swallows flew back to Capistrano on yearning wings.
Then up and out on walk and sprint to the Caribbean sea, a gem coated shimmering twinkling dancing blanket of rising sun meets amniotic blue churning as froth and mist drifted in a sunday sermon from the water's deep and shallow.

A bubbling embrace as sprint turns to
Swan dive into the Sunday morning sea.
Seven day ritual baptism in the Sunday morning sea...at one with and free.
Now.
A sprint to the bobbing fishing boats that never drew fish from their restfull retreats of the morning Sea.

Breakfast
The sounds of tinkling teacups another ritual as granny stirred brown sugar and condensed milk into a carmel swirling with Johnny Cakes and coconut oil fried eggs waiting and wafting out
To the Sunday morning sea.
My Puppy and me then down through the flower garden.
Of we scampered with cares falling away and secrets to share while throwing stones into
The Sunday morning sea
My puppy named Ranger,barefeet and knee pants the hot sting on my ankle from a chastising fire ant rudly stabs at my reverie
As far as the horizon will let.
My imagination flees and unfetters to shores unknown that kiss and caresses my Sunday morning sea.
Geno Cattouse Mar 2014
You must not now deny
It. your hand.
Write...from.... it.

If you can.
Geno Cattouse Mar 2014
Had to write
This letter
BIGGER IS BETTER.
Geno Cattouse Mar 2014
When we were kids in school,there was a gravity between the two of us unlike most kids our age.we sought each other's company above all else apart from all else.
And sit in quite solitide for hours.

Heads inches apart,hands combined to finish the task every now and then a giggle or whisper. We would take turns page turning or holding while the other worked.a team.

You were my comfort, my best friend and confessor I was bent that no-one should hurt you, bully or divest you of any possession. My friend,my girl.
Geno Cattouse Mar 2014
If dying is the wage of sinning and

Endless.fire the coin of blasphemy,
What then lines the pockets of infidels.

Three brass coins.

Two cover the eyes

One for the tongue that lies.
Geno Cattouse Mar 2014
Of time turn slow or fast .the spool looses form and spins faster. Salvation or disaster but turn it must.
           OF change strangled complacency.. tangles mediocrity.

          Of seasons turns and returns winter to spring ...all is forgiven til icy winter.

Of science does and undoes angers mother nature
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