Holiday At The Sea Poem by Robin Bennett

Dreaming of a beginning,
long before we started;
Houses baked full of
gingerbread for hungry hearts,
Fruit painted in mango tango,
peachy keen-abound
Facing a mixed marriage
gulf owned by Mexico.

Giant pineapple trees growing
from sand covered cement,
Stand watch over peddlers
and over priced boutiques-
Crowds of tourists only add
to the racket inside my brain,
I retreat behind white gauzy ghosts,
blowing in the breeze.

June brown, and white sand warmed;
I drift away-
Soaking up a huge watermelon
sun for hours,
Dreaming of the time before
your seed died inside me-
I wake to the sea coughing up
her garbage from the day.

Pristine grains now littered
with green bottles, and dead fish,
Day takes her final bow
with a sleepy dusk climbing to view-
No confidence to strut around
in a bikini, even on a beach.
I find comfort wrapped tightly
in my modest beach blanket.

Making my way back to my
home away from somewhere,
I collapse in tears on the balcony chairs,
listening to a shell.
Figures, all I hear is dead silence;
a mute ocean.
Dinner is served on hideous
tropical fish plates.