The poet and the artist..

The poet and the artist.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

" We need more friends. Less anger. "

                   The poet and the artist..

A poet and a artist sitting by Santa Cruz boardwalk drinking coffee and chasing conversation. The morning was perfect, the sea was calm and the coffee was strong. The poet told the artist. Dear Elena, some sins cannot be forgotten. I have lived the soldier life and I cheated death often. I learn, only the good die young and I am still alive.

With slyness in her gentle voice, she told him. The legacy of a long life is traveling everywhere, to test life often and loving many. Even sin become less sinful with time apart from her.

He told her. You are speaking like a eloquence poet, so tasteful, so kind and so sweet. I adore when you make my dilemma seem more tasteful and sweet. I believe, we shall paid for every sin we have done. I have done most of the seven deadly sins and I didn’t believe hell or heaven. I pray the Purgatory Inn will accept me one day. We make our own beds and we must live in them. Dear Elena, you are my kindest friend.

She smiled and she told him. We are just sailors upon a dangerous sea. We will gain fortunes and we will lose fortunes. We will endure hell and we will celebrate the kiss of heaven. Living is hard and death is never proud. Better to breathe in life and go forward. We must hope we land on our feet with a smile and a hopeful grin. She asked him for the twenties time. Can I paint you today? Please allow me to make you immortal. The poet who loved the sea, the drink and the pretty ladies. A Hemingway resume for you.

He told her. For a kiss and a promise, I will do. She blushed and she kissed him long and hard. She asked him, what promise do you need? He told her. I need you to be my everlasting friend and my calmness in the great storm of life. I need a safe place to rest, a kind voice and for us. To drink coffee  daily together and to talk everyday by the Pacific.

She embraced him tightly and she whispered. Us kindred spirits need the holy ground of the sea where honest words can be spoken and we can show real face without fear of disappointment. I promise dear Poet. You can find me when you need me near the sea in Santa Cruz. I am easy to find my dear friend.

He kissed her forehead and he told her. Thank you my dearest friend.

Two people watched the sun kiss the moon over the Pacific ocean with the blessing of love near.