Your very flesh shall be a great poem.

Virgin Islands

The ocean breeze flutters in,
kissing my neck,
running it’s fingers
through my hair.

The candle on the nightstand flickers
gasping at the wind’s caress
while the clouds pucker
like lace in the sky.

The salty water laps at the edge
of the beach, licking away
the sand and teasing
the seaweed as the tide rises.

A sailboat on a night’s jaunt churns
though the midnight waters,
the billowing sail arching
as it strains against the mast.

Palm trees arch towards the sky
heavy with their coconuts
as the hibiscus spread their petals
wider to welcome the dawn.

And as the sun forces itself
into the night with a burst of red,
I smile because I recognize
this dance for the first time.

The first bite of an apple is always the best.


Go then, my little Book, and show to all
that entertain and bid thee welcome shall,
What thou dost keep close shut up in they breast;
and wish what thou dost show them may be blest
to them for good, may make them choose to be
pilgrims better, by far, than thee or me.
tell them of Mercy; she is one
Who early hath her pilgrimage begun.
Yea, let young damsels learn of her to prize
the world which is to come, and so be wise;
For little tripping maids may follow God
along the ways which saintly feet have trod.

adapted from John Bunyan