Ocean's surf splashing quench hot feet,
Bobby Fischer's playing without fear,
Castles in the sand washing away,
South of the Santa Monica pier.
Chess players race the clock,
Knight's pawns joust in the park,
Two mates to mate two mates,
Night's spawn Faust in the dark.
South of the Santa Monica pier,
Bobby Fischer's playing without fear,
Ocean's surf splashing quench hot feet,
Lover's passion splashing on cool sheets.
Gina
This inspires me to want to write of the cold blue ocean, and all her mysteries as they begin unfolding, and the sun blesses many for certain!
Love the imagery in this poem, so much done (THERE, on the Santa Monica Pier) where I've never dared, too far from here...
WRITE ON!
Warmest Blessings and BIG Hugs, Warrior Purple Lady Passion, SHEExooo
Georg
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Sandie Angel :o)
Regis
How clever to compare love to chess. (a wonderful game I truly love)
Mary
-gene.