Untitled My favorite time to go to the ocean is December. No tourists clogging up the streets, RVs parked in the accessible parking spots. There is finally enough room to lay out a blanket for me and my thoughts. Spend the day under a grey…

The colour of modesty is rouge. It is the shade of the clouds as it witnesses the consummation of two skies; The colour of your thoughts on my skin; Blossoming roses when I sigh your remembrance to the winds; my palms pressed in prayers for…

From the Pacific Ocean the land sprawled eastward wide and flat, crossed by dry stream beds and arroyos carved by twice-a-century rainstorms — gullies roughened with dust-coated weedy scrub that sheltered small brown lizards. The hills heaved from that unpromising plain oily green, sage-scented, parched…

Your blue eyes… are the sky after a storm are the place where the sky and the ocean meet are a summer twilight are the peace in my soul. I could look into eternity for their beauty and calm.   Eve Remillard 6/13/2015  

the ethreal sunlight flows down through the deep blue glass cascading brilliantly across my face i smile close my eyes tightly basking in the warmth shining below soaking in the rays as they dance on my cheeks glittering beneath the surface i crave this it…

Full “super” moon illuminated my walk to the beach Mid-August night Is a gentle reminder of summer’s end. People on porches, shadowed by candles, talk, banter, guffaw, whisper, share libations and points of view… “Israel and Palestine…” “When I was in Ireland..” “Remember the time…”…