General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:

>> On Sunday, August 28, 2022 at 5:20:15 PM UTC-4, Zod wrote:
>>> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>>>>> > Fountain of Youth
>>>>>
>>>>> > Smokers sat outside on the porch
>>>>> > wit, wisdom and conversational drift.
>>>>> > Watching the parade
>>>>> > of tourists, buskers and artists.
>>>>>
>>>>> > I'd sit with the painter
>>>>> > sketching my notes.
>>>>> > A truly perfect street
>>>>> > to compose jazz poetry.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Saint George Street
>>>>> > leads straight to the Spanish fort.
>>>>> > Now a tourist attraction
>>>>> > of Cosplay settlers.
>>>>>
>>>>> > On to the Fountain of Youth
>>>>> > down a long road
>>>>> > of cotton fields and peanut patches
>>>>> > as far as the eye can see.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Take a sharp right
>>>>> > down into Florida.
>>>>> > Over the black water
>>>>> > of the Suwannee River.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Over the blazing miles
>>>>> > the shimmering white light glows.
>>>>> > The red clay country roads
>>>>> > become white silver sand.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Down south on Saint Augustine Beach
>>>>> > near the oldest city in America.
>>>>> > Crumbling coastline on 1997
>>>>> > before they paved it all.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Sand lions
>>>>> > snap up ants.
>>>>> > Minnows eat
>>>>> > mosquito larvae.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Cut across some dry yards
>>>>> > to the beach.
>>>>> > Stop and look
>>>>> > at the abandoned sailboat.
>>>>>
>>>>> > This happened then
>>>>> > and I expect it happens now.
>>>>> > Wrapped a bandanna around my head
>>>>> > to ease my feverish brow.
>>>>>
>>>>> > This was the scene
>>>>> > the reality.
>>>>> > I was soon welcomed in
>>>>> > to the party.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Connected to a scene
>>>>> > but it did not last.
>>>>> > A complicated dream
>>>>> > too heavy to transcribe.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Went down South
>>>>> > near the Fountain of Youth.
>>>>> > Where the gypsy lady
>>>>> > told Ponce the truth.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Once they met
>>>>> > and he looked into her eyes
>>>>> > Ponce was interested
>>>>> > in finding the surprise.
>>>>>
>>>>> > I'll see you
>>>>> > I'll be seeing you
>>>>> > if I use my head
>>>>> > I could make
>>>>> > more changes.
>>>>>
>>>>> > You need more than luck
>>>>> > in this rank affair.
>>>>> > Out of the blue
>>>>> > straight from thin air.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Going back in time
>>>>> > back a little ways.
>>>>> > Back to 1997
>>>>> > and those glory days.
>>>>>
>>>>> > I'll be there
>>>>> > watching her on the rocks
>>>>> > an angry old man
>>>>> > in a motor boat.
>>>>>
>>>>> > He was there
>>>>> > we were all there.
>>>>> > Working in the little store
>>>>> > seemed to suit him.
>>>>>
>>>>> > I have a role
>>>>> > looking into the past.
>>>>> > Those days I thought were over
>>>>> > since I knew they wouldn't last.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Ever since
>>>>> > I don't know when
>>>>> > she was getting the habit
>>>>> > smoking cigarettes again.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Don't take your heart away
>>>>> > such inclimate weather
>>>>> > in your charm.
>>>>>
>>>>> > I poured us both
>>>>> > a Captain Morgan.
>>>>> > We toasted each other
>>>>> > sad and warm.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Rode down with Danny B.
>>>>> > in a U-Haul truck.
>>>>> > With a few extra dollars
>>>>> > feeling filled with luck.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Going down to see the
>>>>> > Fountain of Youth.
>>>>> > To look around
>>>>> > for the slightest bit of truth.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Interview with the poets
>>>>> > on Flagler radio.
>>>>> > The reading for the deaf
>>>>> > with Miranda signing the poems
>>>>> > as I read them.
>>>>>
>>>>> > The school or the deaf and blind
>>>>> > was down on San Marcos Avenue.
>>>>> > Miranda had been both
>>>>> > a student and a teacher.
>>>>>
>>>>> > I walked by any times
>>>>> > but never did go inside
>>>>> > the Ripley's "Believe It Or Not!"
>>>>> > which was also on San Marcos.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Riding down
>>>>> > that old country road.
>>>>> > Danny B. pointed out the window
>>>>> > and gave a quick history lecture.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Between 1513 and 1763
>>>>> > Florida was a Spanish colony.
>>>>> > No place better displays
>>>>> > that lingering reality.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Across and then down
>>>>> > through the blood soaked fields
>>>>> > reminded me of Manassass.
>>>>> > Killing fields
>>>>> > man's natural occupation.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Where a seasonal battle
>>>>> > was fought.
>>>>> > Once a year one side
>>>>> > would attack the other.
>>>>>
>>>>> > As we rode past the field
>>>>> > Barfield explained the history.
>>>>> > English against Spanish
>>>>> > control stayed intact.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Don't make confusion
>>>>> > change of weather
>>>>> > comes a change of heart
>>>>> > now take a new space
>>>>> > don't go away.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Never decide until
>>>>> > looking back on it in hindsight.
>>>>> > Laughing crocodile
>>>>> > least of his concerns.
>>>>>
>>>>> > There begins a psychological
>>>>> > brow beating.
>>>>> > Not many can or will accept this
>>>>> > life is too short.
>>>>>
>>>>> > The walk to the beach
>>>>> > was just a few blocks.
>>>>> > Passed through every day
>>>>> > like a youth in the dark.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Up to watch high tide
>>>>> > up on the deck.
>>>>> > Writing down the scene
>>>>> > the sea a crashing wreck.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Back at the reading
>>>>> > liberal hearts were bleeding.
>>>>> > Nag Champa and weed smoke
>>>>> > floated in the breeze of the deck.
>>>>>
>>>>> > To look for miles across
>>>>> > the Atlantic Ocean.
>>>>> > Watching for the high tide
>>>>> > to come in.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Then he describes the
>>>>> > avaricious predators.
>>>>> > Listeners in the tent
>>>>> > feverish in the Florida heat.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Spacious daylight
>>>>> > in the courtyard
>>>>> > in the center of town.
>>>>> > First sight to be seen
>>>>> > crossing the Bridge of Lions.
>>>>>
>>>>> > On top of the world
>>>>> > watching high tide.
>>>>> > The world started
>>>>> > so when will it stop?
>>>>>
>>>>> > Back then we lived
>>>>> > down on the beach.
>>>>> > Music from the seaside bars
>>>>> > drifted across the dunes.
>>>>>
>>>>> > I used to walk by
>>>>> > the wax museum
>>>>> > walking over to see the
>>>>> > blind painter
>>>>> > Sherwood King.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Sherwood could turn out
>>>>> > about two oil paintings a day.
>>>>> > Sometimes three
>>>>> > when he was hyped up on whiskey.
>>>>>
>>>>> > His lovely wife
>>>>> > was quite a muse.
>>>>> > She drank and swore
>>>>> > was a lit fuse.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Down a few side streets
>>>>> > to the poetry gig.
>>>>> > At Behind The Forest Pub
>>>>> > hippies laughing
>>>>> > dancing a jig.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Sugar Mama
>>>>> > set her sights on me.
>>>>> > One more way
>>>>> > to make it happen.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Too much of the drink
>>>>> > and too much debate.
>>>>> > Brought an end to the scene
>>>>> > it was a matter of fate.
>>>>>
>>>>> > They had the big volume of poems
>>>>> > up on the shelf.
>>>>> > Carl Sandburg in the combat zone
>>>>> > poems about that toddling town.
>>>>>
>>>>> > Sipping slumgullion
>>>>> > on the porch of the pub.
>>>>> > Just over the hill
>>>>> > we could see the lights of the town.
>>>>>
>>>>> > I got a telephone call
>>>>> > that was undelivered.
>>>>> > It was an important message
>>>>> > that was not brought to me.
>>>>>
>>>>> > This was 1997
>>>>> > my first year in town.
>>>>> > I left with my tattered suitcase
>>>>> > on the bus
>>>>> > homeward bound.
>>>>>
>>>>> > -Will Dockery 2020
>>>>>
>>>>> > -------------------------------------------------
>>>>> > From the Shadowville Mythos poetry blog:
>>>>> > https://shadowville-mythos.blogspot.com/2021/03/fountain-of-youth.html
>>>>> Quite excellent..... one of best....

>>>> Thanks again for the nod, Zod.

>>> Cool... cool....

>> Good evening, my friend.

> Howdy howdy howdy.....

Good to see you again, my friend.