Tag Archives: poem about beach

Daniel’s Beach Bar

A La Manzanilla tradition is the gathering each night to watch the sunset on the beach behind Daniel’s real estate office and home.  I happen to rent the house next door and so nightly, even if I don’t always join them, I am still party to the sounds of laughter, talking and glug glug of tequila being poured into shot glasses.  On those rare occasions when there is phosphorescence on the water, the “Ohhhhhhhhh’s” come in loud waves and I run out to share the spectacle. Daniel’s beach bar is only one of the aspects of this special place that make it special, but it is one so familiar to me that I wanted to share it with both those who know it well as well as those of you who don’t. Not written to any prompt, this one is written from the heart and memory:

IMG_3117

Daniel’s Beach Bar

The wormwood planks above the sand,
set on pillars by his hand,
form a bench twelve feet or so
where every night townspeople go
to watch the sun sink in the ocean
and (if they should have the notion)
to share a tequila shot or two,
to chew the fat and share the view.

He is a solitary man,
tall and skeletal and tan.
Shirtless and shoeless, he sits among
the friends, like him, no longer young,
who choose this life of sand and sea
where they can be what they want to be.

A bottle cap sufficient to stub
his cigar smoked down to  nub,
he leaves the ones who gather here,
and grabs another bottle of beer
to stroll back to his office where
for another hour, he’ll type and stare
at the screen where other friends abide,
locked securely there inside.

Tomorrow morning, the town asleep,
the village vagabond will sweep
the sand for butts of cigarettes,
his luck compounded when one forgets
a pack with one or two inside.

And though there’s no one there to chide,
still, he quickly palms them and
moves through last night’s littered sand––
past empty glasses and one or two
tequila bottles devoid of brew.

Last night’s spoils in light of day,

give last night’s revelries away.

(Click on any image to enlarge all)

 

 

Beach Combing

IMG_3577“Beach Sunset” bone, shell, wood, coral, sponge, beach scrub and acrylic paint, 3.5 x 11 inches, Mixed media assemblage by Judy Dykstra-Brown, March, 2016

Beach Combing

I gave nothing to the sea, so she gave nothing back.
It was as though she looked and thought, “There’s nothing that you lack.”
It’s true that I have all I need of food and friends and fun,
and yet I still lack something that’s waiting to be won.

It isn’t gained by medals, by prizes or by fame,
for it is some other thing, bereft of rank or name.
There is some magic in the world that I go looking for
that has no set place where it lives, no windowpanes or door.

I’ve found it once or twice before, in places far afield
by accident, for if you try to force it, it won’t yield.
It isn’t found at parties, a fiesta nor a fete.
If you go looking for it, the magic will abate.

It’s found in how you do things, in what manner, at what pace.
If you reach too quickly, it will vanish with no trace.
I can’t tell you how to gain it, for I fear that I don’t know.
I just know that when I found it was when I was going slow.