My Words

Understanding the World through words

Month: October, 2013

Pour Me A Glass Of California Wine

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Pour me a glass
of red California
wine,

from
the mountains
surrounding the
Pacific bay.

I’ll tell you a story
about the Ocean Blue.

As the ambrosia hits
my veins.

Red as the wine
from our costal region.

When I go to
the beach,
I take off my shoes

and
wiggle my toes in
the cold sand.

Or how
I helped my friend
build his patio deck.

Competing-
between us,
who could drive
a sixteen penny
nail with one blow.

How at Año Nuevo
we surfed until dark,

barely seeing
the sets
once the sun
was drowned
by the horizon.

And, how those waves
were just right,

double overhead
and glassy
even at night.

I can tell you about 125,
but I won’t because
those are secrets
I share with my wife.

Pour me a glass of
red California wine,
and I’ll tell you
the road I’ve been
on.

How Do You Taste Wine?

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How do you taste wine?

One’s palette can be stubborn.
The nuances of flavors
becomes tricky,
especially from the regions of
Southern France,
Bordeaux.

Grapes like
Merlot and
Malbec give their
blood a soft flavor
When mixed in a
crystal cup.

That region of France,
home not only
to lovely wines,
but also
Spanish wives
who
escaped from Sefarad
a long time ago.

My Son’s Garden

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Yishai is growing a garden.
He’s growing green beans, radishes
cantaloupes, cucumbers, onions,
and pumpkins.

So far he’s harvested a cantaloupe
It was the sweetest fruit a ten year
old has grown.

The garden is well watered and the
warm California sun helps to enrich
his cultivation with its life
giving rays.

He tends to his little garden
with anticipated joy,
as soon as he comes back
from school, off he goes
to check to see if the cantaloupe has
grown any
since yesterday.

He’s proud of his growing
achievement.
Once in a while,
he’ll bring me a radish or
green bean he’s grown.

Taking it in my hand,
I thank him and the creator
for the bountiful harvest and eat it.
Yum, yum, yum I say as I pat him
On the back, “good job son”
“Give me a high five”

Under A Fig Tree

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What’s it like to die
under a fig tree?

“And every man shall plant a
vineyard and rest under his
fig tree.”

Was the prophet speaking
to me?

I’m resting under a shaded tree,
listening to the soft caressing
songs of distant birds.

The Mediterranean California weather superb.

A gentle fall breeze wisps intermittently
cooling my restless soul.

Oh God, I’m overtaken by your love!

You created this for me,
to enjoy the quiet moments,
to enjoy the splendor of nature.

Your creation.

You give me so much peace,
that my simple words cannot
describe.

Words fail me.
How can I explain
tranquility?

Or the vastness of a clear blue sky?

How can I describe the scent of an
orange and grape filled
Breeze?

How can I describe white butterflies
dancing in the air?

I can’t.

When I plant my fig tree,
these are some of
the things I want
to recall.

Breakfast At Nine

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Lounging in bed
I just woke up.
I check the alarm,
I have a breakfast date
at 9:00
with my wife.

We’re staying at
the Inn at Locke House
Bed & Breakfast.

It’s a well lived in
Victorian Manor.

It reminds me of the time
I went to an antique shop.
Curiously looking at trinkets
And what not.

There behind the glass were
A pair of gentleman’s gloves
Soft and warm,
well worn in
and meticulously
Preserved.

The Locke House
Well guarded and
maintained,
If you close your eyes
You can hear the conversations
From those days.

Conversations undisturbed
by our contemporary gadgets.

Conversations that
last a life time.

Every word well pronounced.
Every word has a meaning.

Those words still linger
In the corners of this house.

People cared back then,
people cared about life.

The walking gardens
Verdant, watered
with people’s conversations
Under shaded persimmon trees.

Where frolicking butterflies
Find their playgrounds,
Where frogs croak at
Full moon nights.

“What’s it like to be in paradise”
Said, one toad to another.
“You’re looking at it”

Like An Adulterous Woman

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(Painting by Edward Hopper)
It happened again!

Sleep left me
Like an adulterous
woman in the middle
of the night.

When I woke up
she was gone.

I got up and
searched for her.
I went looking.
I went to the bars,
Then to the cafes…

I stayed up and
counted the stars,
in the hope that
she’d come back to
Me, but to no avail.

It wasn’t
until first light
That the naughty
Temptress returned.

By then I was too
exhausted to care.

I didn’t even
have the the energy
to reprimand her
anymore.

Falls Golden Leafs

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Its that time of year when
The fall’s golden leafs
Shimmer, at that
precise moment
when the sun’s
Downward crest is at
it’s most luminous.

Like a thousand soldiers
dressed in medieval armor.
Standing in battle array,
Radiant and glittering
amidst a verdant
landscape.

What a sight it must have been,
To see such glimmering beauty!

Suddenly realizing
that the vision-
Ebullient and
wonderful:

Is the splendor of
your enemy,
whose sole intention
Is only to see you dead.