Journey of a Romantic

journey to reality mine it seems is the fate of travelers. always so little time to learn about and get close to others, but time to reflect and wonder. the first is my albatross the second my daily sustenance, leading me to lush fields that will keep me strong until reflection becomes reality. voyage i departed years ago on a voyage for unknown destinations met at times by stormy seas, blessed too infrequently with friendly ports. the sea is harsh on a man witness the Sirens luring men into mortality. yet i returned each time the call was heard, aware that the sea does not always permit total peace of mind. love’s enchantment and mystique seem endlessly out of reach. Poseidon rules victorious over Venus, indifferent to demands on a man’s soul. on my last voyage i entered a placid harbor offering welcome rest warmth and tranquility companionship and peace of mind, fulfilling my wants. it was unlike other harbors so i wanted to stay, to embrace the rapture of your being, but the call again came producing an all too common refrain an emotional plea “i must go away, but please grant my return.” stinson beach it’s good to see you again. my mind floods with memories of you, she, and myself. you haven’t changed much. still the little rustic houses climbing up the sides of your hovering mountains. and small beach houses on sticks staring out to sea. the crashing surf and old men with fish lines reaching into the secrets of your blue waters. your sand is hot to the feet, so i must dash around! nothing new. 7-11 has found you, stinson beach, i wonder if IBM will too. i hope not. i’ve changed. i’m a bit more cautious now – you name it. i remember like yesterday when the three of us were together. on tiny towels necessitating closeness she and i lay, tan oiled body to tan oiled body. she’s gone now – but I’ve returned. next time i’ll bring a close friend of mine. i know that you would like her. i’ll try to bring her soon. i’ve missed you. olema i’m here again. i wonder if you noticed me. of course, i haven’t always been very friendly. stinson beach was on my mind when i traversed your streets. how despicable. i have stopped to say hello a few times though. you remember she and i stopped at your restaurant and bar one time on our way back from pt. reyes. other times it’s been different. i’ve driven on your sleepy streets, guilty that i am sneaking through. the corner grocery saw me once, i saw it wink as i passed by. i’ll try to be more friendly in the future. and one more thing. please don’t change. i like you the way you are. sausilito i didn’t know you until the second time i loved. she and i strolled often along the bridgeway pushing our way up little lombard in the village fair and stepping inside every shop that begged entry. we never tired of your graciousness and pleasures. i’ve brought someone new that is special to me. we marveled at the jewelry in eaton’s and sat on the wharf with the city the bay angel island and twisting sailboats set out before us. if only i had a bankroll i’d buy something more than lunch at the kettle and flowers for my friend. sitting on a ramp at the boat harbor gazing at the symmetry of masts and gleaming wood, and being mesmerized by the sound of lapping water against the hulls. arm in arm it was easy to drift into incalculable depths of tranquility. i told her so, and she responded with a touch that spoke of her thoughtfulness and appreciation. i was drawing tri-masters on the jeans of her thigh, when i returned from tahiti met her gaze and touched her warm lips. home again, and safe. sausilito you will never be the same to me. lincoln villa it wasn’t always this way. it used to be different. walking along the street looking into windows reflecting a singular figure – i didn’t see too many Smiles. a coke with one straw. a passenger seat that became dusty with non-use. one dirty glass. and sitting in a bar using the quarters on beers for one. i felt for sure that you were just around the corner. you came into my life just in time – i had been wondering what it was like to Love. it had been a long time – Love doesn’t surface when it can’t find you from one room to the next. i now see the blue of sky – the green of grass. butterflies don’t just wing around – they whisper to the air as they float by on wings of silk. and every pebble in the stream holds a story of life searching for eager ears. each new day brings visions of wonderful things to behold. there are more Smiles around and i like to think i initiate many of them. He’s been holding an ace up his sleeve – He works in strange ways you know. i’m a very lucky person. i have you.