When I see
the Spanish
moss
and mystery,
Across
the seven mile
bridge.
Crystal clear
aquamarine
call
out for me,
Placating the
blue coral
and
seaweed.
Gliding
Mantra rays
welcome me.
as they shimmer
in
bright transparency.
Key Largo,
your call,
lifts my soul.
Compelling
crystal
waters of
blue-green hue
hypnotize me.
My island....
dream
I am yours.
Ah, the hot,
Mosquito-y
summer
of 75',
Clannish
Key people
welcome my
misery.
House on
quarried grey
stone,
Bamboo
tables set
with conch
chowder and
lager.
The rosey-pink
allure
of conch
embodied,
My dreams
of flamingos,
sunsets, and
female mystery.
Bogart welcome me
to the table
Key breezes
rustling lines
upon lines
of palms,
Gnaw the prawns,
sing a
song,
pummel the
crustaceans.
Never mind
the passing hues
of purple
lavender snails,
For there is
more than
beauty
to behold.
Islas
Morados
shall wait on me,
For tonight I
rest my sails
to heed the
gates.
Key Largo
tonght,
the Chart
room,
then Duncan
street.
North-Easternly,
buffet my fate
for dawn
comes soon.
Halcyon late
morning,
where sea lights
paint
houses and
memories clean.
Tonight,
the stars
gather my
dreams on a
pillow,
For
tomorrow is
Key Largo