The journey to a place
I'd never been - a place where winter's
population drops by several hundreds
where wind blows back the waves
Breathing in the 'lost sea smell'
I choose the smallest hotel - eight rooms
sign reads "breakfast served as clock strikes six"
( a perky grad student moonlights as chef / wait-staff )
lunch is served in mid-afternoon
chowder thick and creamy
I finish with a large glass of Pinot Gris ( maybe two )
food enough to last till six a.m sharp
Not far away sits a dreary looking church
paint peeling - grave-stones scattered about
doors open as clocks strike eight
I walk there each morning humming
"In the Garden' - 'All Things Bright and Beautiful"
( memories from childhood )
Ahhh yes, remains of each day
books, long walks in sturdy shoes
fires in my tiny fireplace ~
hoping for a rainy night
( moonlight saved for homecoming )
You lucky girl. That sounds absolutely perfect. Yay!
ReplyDeletePssst, you used "humming" too. :-)
ReplyDeleteI want to go here too!
Sounds like a one-horse town, beautiful description. I like your picture, my thinking it is the Continental Fault separated in Iceland. We have a few photos of it. Pretty but scary.
ReplyDelete..
Helen, I think this is my favorite poem of yours that I've read so far! This is stunning!
ReplyDeleteMuch love,
David [ben Alexander]
Better keep the location a secret, or we'll all be visiting! As Jim says, wonderful descriptions Helen.
ReplyDeleteI want to be there too.
ReplyDeleteWell, I was, for a moment.
Thanks to you!
What a lovely escape *into* something you picture for us here, Helen. All the flavors and feels are both sensual and comforting. This is a beautifully drawn moment in time which I love, and now vicariously share. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteHappy Easter Helen. Thanks for dropping by to read mine
ReplyDeleteMuch💛love
Thanks for inviting us along with you! I want some of that apple pie!
ReplyDeleteDearest Helen,
ReplyDeleteNot that I prefer winter and knowing that most people leave during winter, it would be cold.
But the way you describe the simple but good food and also the open door to 'soul food' at a dreary looking Church.
The perfect balance for making it through life!
Hugs and once more Happy Easter to you and Carl.
Mariette
“lunch meant mid-afternoon
ReplyDeletechowder thick and creamy
a glass of Pinot Gris
ending with a slice of fresh-baked apple pie” ... Yum!
“In the Garden” ... We sang that this morning. :)
“revolved around books” ... Sigh. Yes.
“moonlight saved for homecoming” ... Stunning.
Great use of the given words Helen, more than 3 as required. That normally happens once the flow of ideas come smooth. Well done Ma'am!
ReplyDeleteHank
Hank
I would love to visit this place. How wonderful it sounds. I have a longing for a little solitude.
ReplyDeleteA delightful place to be and a delightful poem that drew us all into that place beautifully!
ReplyDeleteBack again.......Thirty years ago, this village rolled up the sidewalks after the Labor Day weekend, and the villagers sighed in relief. Now tourism is all year long and we are all a bit fraught..........
ReplyDeleteYou let the given words carry us away, and it was delightful, Helen. For a moment we were all enjoying the magic.
ReplyDeleteI was never there, put you placed me inside. Excellent poem, Helen!
ReplyDelete