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By Benjamin Jelkmann
(FaceBook: @benjaminjelkmannwriter)
"Adrift"
Waves of rum crash behind his eyes,
Rhythmic with the gentle swell
in front.
Soft wind strums the palm leaves -
It is music of the tropics,
it is just for him;
For his mind to dance on empty sands.
She drifts near the shore,
Stirring her body in the morning calm.
Adrift,
Stealing glances from the fishing boats.
She has eyes for him only;
And him for her.
She turns her head,
Hears the music of the tropics.
Through his sea of rum she is a silhouette,
Finely shaped and floating in the glare.
A rising sun.
The big ball of fire, come again.
Come to warm the cloudless day
into humid submission.
A morning whose memory fades
with the stars,
A morning that starts and fades with
the years of rum fiestas and sunrises.
He washes his revelation down;
The palm leaves sing their music.
"Sea Kisses"
The bruised sky is alive
and moving.
The storm is nearing the town,
Entering the wide bay.
Little droplets hit
the salty mangroves first,
The tall vines next,
The strain on the heavy air
breaks over Bluefields.
Thunders down onto tin roofs,
Lights the sky.
Turns the sea to inky blue.
I bob like a buoy,
And then I grow smaller;
A cork in the waves.
Then I am gone.
"Spain My Home"
On arrival from across the Med –
Whirls and slaps onto flat worn rocks.
A moving carpet; dancing light,
Energy expired, soaked onto sandy slopes.
What familiar sight is that?
What feelings are these?
A Brandenburg night; a stripe of stars;
Humid Sky, sweaty skin,
mercy brings a cooling air.
In morning dew, I wake to find
a longing thought is in my mind
Her moist fingers sift my skin,
And I know she wants to smile.
But so long as waters move to shores,
So shall my eyes be facing south.
It’s an aching thought,
This ailment of mine.
The cure is home,
Home is Spain.
About the Author:
Benjamin Jelkmann is an English writer.
His latest novella is titled A Caution for the Doe Eyed and is available everywhere.
He currently lives in Berlin.
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