by Andrew M. Bowen
A kitten breeze frisks through the trees,
the sun shines clear and gold;
bright colors, skirts above the knees,
the autos hum like bees.
And I must find a way to say:
“Let’s leave in lightning bold,
pack up our hearts in summer hay
and leave this murky way.
“Your eyes inspire my heart with fire
and freeze my soul with cold;
so let’s melt care with glad desire
and rise above this mire.
“Take my hand, let’s find the promised land,
be young instead of old,
for we are children in the sand
with seashells in our hand.”
Andrew M. Bowen has published about 101 poems and is trying to publish two novels. He is also an insurance agent and an actor who has appeared in 10 independent films, eight stage productions, and two radio telecasts.