The Poets By The Sea--Part I and Part II?

I was clinging to some driftwood

Feeling lost and without hope

Love had tossed me overboard

But did not throw a rope.

I felt a lot like flotsam

As I washed up on a beach

The wreckage from my past

Was laying close, but out of reach.

It seems I’d found an island

I saw huts among the trees

I heard the clack of Underwoods

I struggled to my knees.

I staggered past a bathtub

And stumbled towards a shack

The smell of salt and sweet perfumes...

And then it all went black.

I woke up in a circle

How close-knit, I didn’t know

But the faces peering down at me

Sure had a healthy glow.

The clacking had abated

Replaced by far-off birds

And gentle quiet murmuring

From the group is what I heard.

I was laying on a mattress

In a room of teak and rose

And the smell of scented candles

started tickling my nose.

The next part’s kinda fuzzy

‘Cause I faded in and out

But late that night, round 3 A.M.

I woke...and I cried out..

An angel put her hand on me

Imploring me to rest

She said her name was BG

And “Would I be her guest?”

My head came off the pillow

I said “BG? That’s a corker!

Are you gal who writes those poems

I see in The New Yorker?”

A tiny grin was all I got

By way of a reply

She put a finger to my lips

And I began to cry.

She said, “You’re finally home now.

You’ll love it here, you’ll see

In time you’ll get to know us all

‘The Poets By The Sea’”.

..............Part II...................

Two days I rested on that cot

Beege tending to my needs

She gave me milk from coconut

(and other kindly deeds).

That night I heard a ruckus

From just outside the hut

The sound of laughter filled my ears...

I went to see what’s what.

A wondrous sight was waiting

I cleared my eyes of grit

Many people gathered ‘round

a blazing fire pit.

There was music and some dancing

And the sparks were flying high

A girl strumming a guitar

Looked up and caught my eye.

The group fell strangely silent

As the music ceased to play

And heads began to swivel

Towards this lonely castaway.

I must’ve looked quite silly

As I stood there on the sand

I know I felt quite sheepish

Being naked, understand.

BG took in shocked faces

As she rushed to hide my shame

She threw me an old bathrobe

As she chuckled out my name.

“Cheesy, oh my goodness!

My darlin’ what’cha thinkin’?

Your pants were hangin’ on a hook!”

She said, while she was winkin’.

She led me to the fire

And turned to face the group

Started making introductions

Putting Cheesy in the loop.

“Cheesy , here’s a few folks

I’d like for you to meet

We’ll start right here upon your left

The girl with hair like wheat.”

“She writes like she is ten feet tall

And Texas is her Heaven

But when she’s on her ol’ back porch

She’s known as 5 feet 7.”

“And next to her is Ashley

She looks like royalty

When she’s not longing for her prince

She’s longing for some tea”

“And this ol’ lech is Derrick

He’s smarter ‘an a whip

But when the girls have bath-time

He’s quivering his lip”

“And now we come to CAZ

Her friends will call her Carole

If you tell her that her butt is cute

You’ll have her o’er a barrel.”

“And this young man is JC

If you mess up, he’ll unload

Behind his hut he built himself

A solid-gold commode.”

“And here’s the one named Cassie

I take pleasure in ‘troducing

Her poems have got a quiet knack

For teary eyes producing.”

“And this young lass is Damsy Blues

Quick with wit and pen

If you wish to hear of heartache

You should read her now and then.”

“And here we have a beauty

Please don’t mind her ripped-shirt

A keener mind you’ll never find

Astoria stream of scripture.”

“And this ol’ bird is mother

But we call her ‘Ma’ instead

She holds us all together

While examining your head.”

“And over by that palm tree

Hunkered down and looking nuts

Is a mind that is unsuited

To a life of kissing butts.”

“We call him DaveBukHenry

(if that really is his name)

And he keeps the whole damn lot of us

From going quite insane.”

“But this is just a smattering

It’s just a few, my friend

There’s many more you’ll get to know

If you hold up your own end.”

And there you have it, readers

A tale to you, from me

I’m very happy now among

The Poets By The Sea.