Under the bleating sun of May,
Lay the lovers of the day.
They were fallen angels in the sand.
Running from the places they’d been banned.
They stared into each other’s eyes,
As serene as the sapphire skies.
Their ruby lips of syrup, so divine,
Sweeter than the fruits of wine.
As people pass them by,
They turn their heads and sigh.
They whisper bitter words,
And mock in tight-knit herds.
The angels prayed for peace,
But the pain never did cease.
On that cursed beach,
Hate was all they would preach.
They were forced to hide and run away,
To keep the angry mob at bay.
So the lovers of the day became lovers of the night,
Because for two women, loving was a blight.
Téa Florencio recently turned 15. They live in Plainfield, New Jersey with their parents and older brother. They say a happy man is one who can make a living from his hobby. This is exactly what they hope to do. While they enjoy everything from tennis to piano, to baking, their greatest interest and joy in life, is writing. They go nowhere without their trusty red notebook and pen. They are their greatest travel companions and are the way in which I understand the world. When they're not studying for school, they go outside, run through the trees wildly, lay down under the stars, jump into the ocean, anything to get their mind racing. Then they'll capture every feeling and detail with their pen. They also write during moments of intense emotion when they feel there is no way out for them but a page. They (the words) sing to them and their soothing rhythmic flow puts them at ease. In Téa's word's, "On the page, they stare me back in the face, clearly defined in black ink, making me read them over again and again, forcing me to process how I feel slowly. Poetry is ever so subjective, and so after this emotionally raw first draft, I read them to family and friends to see how my own words can connect to common human experience. I get their thoughts on each work, trying to understand how it makes them feel, and how they can relate. I take their golden insights and tweak the wording, format, and flow. After each change, I replay the poem back in my head like a song, trying to get each beat to fit and tell a story. When finally the poem rings true to me, and I feel I have captured the essence of a shared experience or emotion, I know it is ready and hope it will touch others as it did me."
"Pink Sands Beach , Harbour Island" by Mike's Birds is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/?ref=openverse.
