Sizzling under a Greek barbecue
Marinated in wafts of sweet coconut
Lobsters gleam in lines along the shoreline view
Exposing parts that rarely see the light, but
On this, the annual cooking ritual.
All caution's thrown into the deceiving breeze,
Offering tender skins, sacrificial,
Lying on canvas altars, toasted crispees,
Waiting to be dipped in a splash of blue brine,
Then soaked in the heady juice of local vines.
So, a perfect holiday, a perfect time.
Linking this to d’Verse Poets and Grace’s invitation to write an Eleventh Power poem. Having problems copying the link on my phone, sorry. I will try to add it later. Needless to say, my attempt is prompted by all the sunbathers we are surrounded by…