Seashores, glittery traffic lights

the swirling seagulls

I have crossed the imaginary line

divided we speak our backs turned

heading to the haven of soft sounds

into the arms of Hove angel

and pescarian food wafts my nostrils

its bedazzling to be home

fermenting and free-wheeling

into traces of the channel

this love I have for southern shores

rests within my soul

a place I come to express

all that is within me

hail the south

crowned queen of stars

shimmering mirage

of potential dreams

the South speaks for itself

©2017 Chris Renk. All rights reserved