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*alas, the same promise, yet again, broken, no more writing of the lightness of perfection so real, it cannot be a truly, a man's one more poetic homage to improve upon nature's gift, nary a single craft to be seen, tho somewhere, a motor hums nearby, a mechanical reminder that men will intrude, even if unobserved, not necessarily then, a picture complete the sun 7 o'clock afternoon sky low, warmths the world, as did its AM reciprocal, a dozen hours earlier, both on a low heat, a sky stove top 'keep warm' setting, a desirable global warming temperature that promise not to burden you with a hundredth scribing of his lottery luck, this poetry nook and the idyll of its surround, it's childlike insistence, stomping on the greenest sea grass of this portly world, "write of me, attention must be paid!" the lightest breeze of excellent sufficiency asks the trees to shake their compatriot leaves as if to applaud, one more time, a lord of the ring serenade, an evenstar song of the solstice of perfection a cloudless night but for an occasional wispy white blemish, hinting that the orb's final bow will be a forever remembered, standing ovation performance in an hour, to the dock we'll go, joining  the congregant gulls in appreciating the edging lower of an immaculate inception of a dying day's deceptive departure my troubles, those that furrow and till the brow, 105 miles away, as the crow flies, for now suppressed into non-existence, as we drink to la vie en rose, our wine, snatching the salmon pink of suns rays rippling and reflecting upon humans, who too reflect, upon their good fortune, this single and singular peeking at the peaking of their perfection, each wishing this be their journeys end, their final solstice, to walk into a funnel upon the water, into the sun and the horizon in attendance faithful,, alighting upon the wings of the most glorious of  inviting, dying rays of setting, answering the question, a long last finale, here, here is shelter!*
0
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 3:03 PM UTC
The solstice of their perfection
*alas, the same promise, yet again, broken, no more writing of the lightness of perfection so real, it cannot be a truly, a man's one more poetic homage to improve upon nature's gift, nary a single craft to be seen, tho somewhere, a motor hums nearby, a mechanical reminder that men will intrude, even if unobserved, not necessarily then, a picture complete the sun 7 o'clock afternoon sky low, warmths the world, as did its AM reciprocal, a dozen hours earlier, both on a low heat, a sky stove top 'keep warm' setting, a desirable global warming temperature that promise not to burden you with a hundredth scribing of his lottery luck, this poetry nook and the idyll of its surround, it's childlike insistence, stomping on the greenest sea grass of this portly world, "write of me, attention must be paid!" the lightest breeze of excellent sufficiency asks the trees to shake their compatriot leaves as if to applaud, one more time, a lord of the ring serenade, an evenstar song of the solstice of perfection a cloudless night but for an occasional wispy white blemish, hinting that the orb's final bow will be a forever remembered, standing ovation performance in an hour, to the dock we'll go, joining  the congregant gulls in appreciating the edging lower of an immaculate inception of a dying day's deceptive departure my troubles, those that furrow and till the brow, 105 miles away, as the crow flies, for now suppressed into non-existence, as we drink to la vie en rose, our wine, snatching the salmon pink of suns rays rippling and reflecting upon humans, who too reflect, upon their good fortune, this single and singular peeking at the peaking of their perfection, each wishing this be their journeys end, their final solstice, to walk into a funnel upon the water, into the sun and the horizon in attendance faithful,, alighting upon the wings of the most glorious of  inviting, dying rays of setting, answering the question, a long last finale, here, here is shelter!*
a sincere apology for writing of, again and again, the perfection of this place in our lives Silver Beach, Peconic Bay, S. I
whereshelter
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Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 3:03 PM UTC
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