Breathtaking and foreboding...absolute in it's perfection. Dena

I'm mesmerized. Superior use of prose in this piece, Gene. A subtle mystic with sharp visuals that keep you captive. A wonderful read! Hugs, Elizabeth

Oh my! A splendid poem, perfectly crafted, blessings, Holly

Ok, is it just me? Is this like the psychologist and client wherein the client tells the psychologist the dirty Rorshack pictures are after all, the therapist's cards? I am totally stuck on the image of the woman. Unless you were speakinhg only metaphorically and I am dumber than dumb, then the woman in the straw hat and pale thong is a real woman, after talking about whom you quote keats in terms of spying on someone. I mean, again you are trying to distract yourself still in the third stanza. So anyway, I find this a sexy poem, if I'm allowed to say that. So much moreso in that we are spying on the man hoping to spy on the woman. Nothing overt. And one of sadness over the advancing ripples of age. I interpreted the drums, actually, as the approaching heartbeat of death, that old war we have with our bodies, with age. This is carried forth (for me) in the low-flying plane and then the chill of rain. I think you chose the perfect quote, in the Keats. I think the name of the squid is jarring. But you know I love alliteration and you have so much of it driving thi poem. (fixed at four, reduced to ripples, etc.) I also think the simple rhyme: wait/late works. But what I might like best of all this is the atmosphere. Something about that late sun, about the darkness coming on (despite the sun's being "fixed.") -- the use of the weather, sounds, colors)....... the fact that it starts with sun and ends with rain. I don't know, I could be reading completely wrongly. To me this is a poem about waning youth, advancing age, how we start in light and end in darkness. The poem is rhythmic, like an ocean, even if the ocean is only rippling. But there too, the ripples are not roars, age is not like youth, so this is the way I see it and read it, and perhaps I'm totally off and the woman is no woman at all, and the man is having none of these thoughts or feelings whatever, but when I read it, I am that man, I am looking at that shore, I am teased by the thought of that woman, I am feeling foolhardy and or sad that her crew of males does not equal my age, I am feeling my oats, I am hearing the drums, and I am feeling the chill of the inevitable eternity of night.

WONDERFUL!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva

Love this; of course I'm stuck on the Bigfoot sightings in upstate New York - Whitehall, to be precise. I love the lines:
"I walk to water’s edge,
study the wave that ripples at my feet and wonder
where it began."
This is pure-Gene. This poem perfectly exemplifies your most unique qualities - the qualities that draw your readers.

Vividly imaged, you take us to the sea in beautiful lines: thank you, Gene.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.

You have recalled the experience and shared it most effectively via your verses here, Gene. Thank you for this gift. Love and peace to you,

Regis

Another sea story, another water poem drawing me to read it, and can imagine the fun you have when you are by the sea. May you continue to love the sea and write more for us to show us the sea is a great place to be. Thanks for this afternoon by the sea.

This is good stuff. There are some really great descriptions here; you really put me into the poem like I was there. I like how it tells an intricate story without totally ignoring a rhythm or pattern.

Thanks for being a fan of mine; I am now also a fan of yours.

- BGP

Gene, I love this. You write about a few hours in an afternoon...a page of life...and I feel as though I was there. Your poems, many of them, remind me of short films. The imagery is always done to perfection. The combination of the sea, youth, your thoughts...just beautiful.

The ride starts with the title and then this beauty of a poem takes us along so that we can see the shimmering water, smell the salt in the air and feel the drama of everyday life.

great poetic drama Gene, those rain drops can be dangerous sometimes especially when they turn to hail, we had some last night

Gene - Love the way you intersperse life, youth and age, the wonder of the sea, mysteries, and then the forboding of the last lines:

I hear war drums.
From the darkness overhead
there comes the drone of a low flying plane,
the chill of a few drops of rain.

These lines reminder me of a day spent on Mexico Beach, the peace and beauty of the sea, then the roar of warplanes from an air force base. The contrast stunned me. - Thanks for the reminder. - David

Beautifully crafted. I loved how you made me feel as if I was experiencing this with you.

....*sigh* you had to mention 'eve of st.>'.. [gosh]. ..
the internal rhyme and structure of introspective near voyeur...or at least, living vicariously through a window.frame.d pang of longing. .. . the wish of oceanic bliss combined with lustrous pearls of youth. .. . not enough vermouth to wash this salty taste out of my lungs. .. ..
you are such the poet's poet.
this was sublime!
ness

Wow! This swell rises and falls......I love the ending especially......Easy to relate this beach encounter to my fleeting libido and whims of romance long lost.....You write beautifully Gene and I look forward to reading more my new friend.

Peace,

Bill

Gene, I marvel at your great writings, they contain a canvas of beauty and interesting inspiring images. This I'd say this is one of your best! My imaginations ran wild as I read this.

As I hear the sounds and visualize the scenery you draw out passions that lie deep within, such a beautiful write....

Be always safe,
Karen

Excellent writing sweet Gene....sorry I haven't been commenting ,I have been so busy,and also feeling little ill..but I will be better soon....miss you..Hugsss,much love to you

Ah, you write with such finesse!!!! This is stunning in every way!

Your best so far...Great read

Any day by the sea, no matter the weather or the reason is well worth doing so...Ed