Candle in the Breeze

Memorial Day in the U.S.A. and I'm thinking of my southern neighbors - best wishes and hope you had a memorable & enjoyable long weekend.

Marilyn Monroe's birthday is June 1st.  The video below is accompanied by a last interview given by Marilyn.  She's beautiful because she's intelligent... or is she intelligent because she's beautiful.  She's a Gemini twin mirror...as I continue to reflect upon the mirror imagery (posted in my last entry about the glittering movie Gatsby).  The interview is lengthy and very revealing.  If you want to learn about how she perceived fame, her life - please watch the vid.  Marilyn is practical and imaginative - not so messed up as people think...and she has a way of relating her experiences in a positive light.  Happy Birthday, dear Norma Jean.

Last summer I wrote a poem at the beach, without any corrections, line after line in a stream as waves came to shore at the lake.  Not saying the poem is intelligent or fantastic...but it's my spontaneous art.  The title reminds me of the Elton John song "Candle in the Wind" written by Elton back in the 1970's and performed during that time.  Later he rewrote the song for Lady Diana's funeral.  Coincidentally, my anniversary - although I'm not married anymore, was Marilyn's birthday, June 1st.  Here's to my dream lover...

Candle in the Breeze

Save me.  I’m hot.

This sun today

Finds all of me –

I’ve nowhere to hide

Spotlighted in heat waves beside

A gold green dragonfly.

I rise and wade along the shore

Seeing you in cool darkness

Of my memory – You

Facing me, fair and well.

“Farewell, my love” you say

And miles and days between us

Reminding me of crime scenes

Where the first 24 hours are crucial.

A month and more has passed –

Traces of your voice.  I find evidence –

A little black balloon deflated and floating,

Happy Birthday and stars written in white.

I come back to shore and let it dry

Before adding it to my collection

In my beach bag.

A coral opaque pen, dots of moisture within –

I pick it up, wipe the damp sand

Surprised to see pink red ink

Like the color of watermelon

When I write on white paper.

Is this you trying to tell me

You think of me,

Gifts like jewels strewn about

By my hovering concerned angels

Who know I need something, anything

To raise my spirits?

I’m thankful for these pink and black surprises

But I’m only learning to see

And I wish for signs easier to read –

Something certain in a life haunted

With uncertainty, a time of insecurity.

I dream of that balloon, full and aloft

Tied with a long pink ribbon to an outdoor patio

Where you sit on a big warm cushioned wicker chair

With me lounging on your lap

My tan arms around your strong shoulders,

A breeze stirring silver wind chimes

And one coral candle flickering

On a ruffle white icing cake

Upon the wicker table –

A dancing candle flame

And you and me

Not needing to make a wish.