CURE ON THE BEACHES BY FIONA CUMMINGS

CURE ON THE BEACHES

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

The sun is bright

Among the powder sky, is a bright red kite

Trace the string, you’ll find a face of delight

He runs along following his little sister

 On burning sand which can blister

Passing the driftwood on the shore

Sipping at a cool drink leaves me wanting more

Take a pew on a rugged rock

Overhead are seagulls a pure white flock

In the ocean a far

Where the salted sea kisses a star

As the sky turns cobalt blue

Everyone has gone

I’m almost alone

Left is a forgotten shoe

And a stray jack Russel

Chasing a crisp packet

No more hustle and bustle

  Peaceful now, as I pick up a broken tennis racket

Left over games

 A handle possibly from a picnic basket

Looking at the waves

Thinking about my days

A week on the beach

Feeling refreshed skin like a peach

A healthy glow

A distant memory of the snow

The bitter winters

Way back home

 Where the wind cuts like a glass

Fingers boast splinters

And our houses are host to drafts

We live under the same canopy

An yet this is so far from home to me

A paradise

I have visited now twice

I couldn’t believe it the first time

So I had to return

This is a lesson

I needed to learn

Away from my phone

My desk and computer

I lived each day as it came

But here I see a future

Though a totally different culture

A lifestyle I wish to nurture

I walk slowly now

It’s like I feel the lines leaving my brow

Totally stress free

Life is given back to me

I walk through the long foliage

Into the seaside village

This is where I pay homage

And give thanks, in the tiny church

Carved seats, I perch

The fragrance of blown out candles

And wedding petals

 It’s easy to feel at one here

And remember all who are dear

Those in one’s life far and near

Back home there is so much noise

No ball games or kites

Just mechanical toys

Sounds of high pitches

All I hear now is the beaches

Coastal crashes of crusted salted water

Clashing, bashing against the pebbles and boulders

No wars no soldiers

Just peace and harmony

And respect for one’s privacy

A slow walk back to my guest house with the sea view

The bed is of antique pine

Where dreams do come true

A morning cup of tea

No news on TV

Just so calm

Where you feel no threat no harm

I will come back here for sure

As this lifestyle is a cure

 

© Fiona Cummings