Frieda Levinsky

 

Coronado Island

In my girlish PERSONA
With mist on my GOGGLED
Face, I focus
On the Panorama where
Yesterday's shards mirror
The sunbeams as if they are
Embracing my surroundings.
Standing, I feel mesmerized
By this magnificence
Of the Island.

I admire the limestone's language,
Its slow speech at the ocean shore.
The breakers polish the clay cliffs
Bit by bit in a sculptor's mode chiseled
Hastily at his creation
Smoothing stones with his
Dexterous
Fingers designed for this labor
In the proximity
Of these waterways.

I hear foghorns with
Breakers under the bridge
Sounding blessed codas
Like Chopin's preludes
Resonating an Odyssey
Of the Bay's seagulls' and
Their presence
Congregating with mellow
Billowing larks as
They seem to TREASURE
Their own arpeggios.
I can hear
Boats echoing
Man and birds in a unison
Choir directed by an expert maestro,
A Leonard Bernstein no less while
The sun casts its shadows
Over the water expanse.

Here life rises and falls depending
On which fauna with anemonea serve
The creatures' survival
As they feed and fill
Their lungs' air to breathe while mating
Equally to the sunbathing seals
With their Edenic buddies perfect for
Spectators views and wonderment.
I see small shops, quaint
With little traffic
On the roads and shoppers
Mull leisurely in the
City's center on
Orange Avenue.

I am enamored with a
Miraculous beauty at sunrise
On this great body of water
Where life rises and falls
Depending on which fauna
Or fecund anomenea,
Or crustations dwell and find
Sustenance for their survival,
For their lungs and stomachs
Breathing and mating equally to
Seals sunbathing that flourish
Along with their Eden buddies.
I am captivated by watching
Paintings with
Narrow or broad brush strokes
Ever so visible to spectators
Where artists replicate
Moments of perceived reality
While shoppers and theater
Goers aid in the economy
By dining and buying local
Artwork stamped with inventions
By the talented craftsmen as they enjoy
Visitors who become part
Of the natural ardor as well as
The island's travelers who arrive
From Boston, Bejing or Beirut
And elsewhere
From all of the continents
They are here to indulge in
This azure life-enhancing gem
As the Bay's boats are anchored
Surrounded by animate and
Inanimate of God's creatures.

The Island, a miracle
Of quietude with little to
Disturb visitors, residents in
This Paradisic ambiance.
I treasure the site's children and adults
Who are involved in the dreamiest
Realities created
For them or for clients
Who are visiting this
Bit of haven on the Island.
I choose the Del with its
Beach bathers
Creating great pleasures for tot's
On the sands and for
Princes, Presidents and Politicians
As a gathering place seeking cordialities.
Travelers come to the Island with
Their exhilarating expectations,
That is away from the
Urban tumults of their
Home towns. These onlookers
Embrace the warming
Pleasures of a midday on the
Riviera
All can learn about Hollywood
Classic films that have
Been produced here:
The industry's marks are seen
Over and over again with emblems
Of posterity with photos hanging
On walls of this historic site, the
Hotel Del Coronado.

Here exemplary film-makers
Left the industry's footprints
Where these men and women could
Have their own brand of work.
Where excellence and ridicule
Still entertain all with the likes
Of Marilyn Monre or Jack Lemon
Equally presenting tragedy and comedy
Of human nature with love,
Loss or wit to recall a
Recaptured portrayal reality.

On this rendering land
United States
Leaders spoke with humbleness
About the ships' fleets
That returned from
Battles to mourn the losses of
Servicemen and women
Killed in action,
In war after war, sometimes
Gloating victories
Real and perceived
To show to the world
Our prowess to defend
Our land, its economy
And raising the hope
For peace for our population
To which they pledged their
Time, their talents with their
Bodies and souls in defense
Of all of us in securing a respites
From a multiciplicity of battles
For young and old of our
Blessed nation.
We are now bound
To industries
Near and far from
The Island's shoreline,
From this joyous
Strand with the myriads,
Myriads of burgeoning
Living beings, a gift from
The Divine.

As I sought, observed,
And as listened to the life
On the Coronado Island.


 

Oy Moments

From the veins of my premise my brother
No longer calls me with his wit and advice
Who was owner of our loves, our lives.

His prodigious sense of care hangs on
My Northern wall neighboring our parents
Who were and are our first and lasting love.

From the height of my book shelves only
Tiny, brittle remnants of memories are
Laden lightly threading our thoughts.

After examining my Bible only syllables
Echo their speech, their melded words
Of vigil, tranquil not seeing any danger.

And now I see no more veins in my premise
No hellos, no good- byes, no more tears
That shed from our distance never to laugh
With them, never to pray with them, never
Never again except in my memories enshrined
So deeply that every tear tears at my soul of
My loss, their treasured Springs of their
Lives that ring and chime out their days as if Abraham
Were speaking directly to me reminding me how
God tested him and kept him from Isaac's demise.



Copyright 2012 Frieda L. Levinsky


 
Frieda L. Levinsky has received commendations with Blue Ribbons from the Downtown Central San Diego Library.  She has been writing poetry for more than three decades. She gets inspired by certain events on her path. She often returns to some of her fifty hardbound Harvard Classics for inspiration. Sometimes, looking at art inspires her to write. Once she wrote how Rembrandt, Chagall and Cezane would feel dusting her living room furniture or the books about them simply sitting on her marble table and collecting dust with only her examining their artistry in the serenity of her humble abode.

Frieda Levinsky's book of poetry, Enlightened Ambiance, has been published by Xlibris books.