Brook Renwick Poems

Sand, pine needles, wind and salt spray.
When you're happy you know you're alive days.
Seagulls and pipees, sunburn and salty skin.
Travelling to beach camps with friends and with kin.
...

Ghostly winds of ancient folklores.
Possibly a thousand generations or more.
Fossils once long buried are now the 'Pinacles'.
To think when each last received the sun's sprinkles.
...

Summer heat is beating me down to the ground.
The radiation of the sun melting my skin.
Winter chill is not really that chilly between sunrise and sunset.
I look forward to the fresh air as it feels clean to breath.
...

Sounds of melancholy and sounds of mystique,
Is the music of ancestors on the winds of time,
Brought to my ears with the fingers and the nostalgic heart
of the solereas and bulerias guitarist artisan.
...