when cold time frost slips
cross moon & sun
snivels buff’s hug mist
yr fingers & toes fixed
to warm grass high
above buttered beach
swells swirled since
our first buss this
dovetail tally recalls
slips & falls
shorts & talls
sols wherewithal
counterclockwise
tetherball pole wrap
round & round we
The Coming of the Toads 
L.O.V.E.
“Yr fingers and toes fixed to warm grass high above a buttered beach”
I know this feeling Joe – beautifully captured.
It’s great when words match a feeling so perfectly. There is a kind of confusion and delight about same. Sometimes after reading words such as those of a novel, should the novel have been reproduced in movie form ,certain scenes can cause a kind of dream state of not knowing if the film has been done before.
Words are so wonderful and the simple human state may be transformed by the capturing of an episode, the suggestion of what may happen or by the many other remarkable powers words exploit.
So the “Buttered beach” is instinctively something you have written, but moreover is akin to opening a Christmas card from a dear friend.
Cheers Joe.B
Thanks, B. Cheers back to you! Bit of snow again today. Oh for the life of an endless summer of buttered beaches, but that’s just keeping on the run and rum. The weather washes over – waves of wind and dusty snow. Disorienting in a way, where the confusion and delight comes from maybe. In winter the air out seems as tight as in summer it is loose. No distance in winter. Everything closes in on you. Not like summer with its generous spaces.
True!
I’m not sure if “Retailers cringe ” is used over there to describe the omnipresent world which confronts the smiling provider as the shop doors are opened each day? The ever-alert, on your toes state of action stations. And then Christmas ……………………………………………….!
Winter to Summer. That luxurious (or lux as is the common preference ) feeling; of openness and warmth, wine and cheese, handshakes and air-kisses. The world is once again at ease as the naked retailer strolls along a “Buttered and seductive smelling beach”,oblivious to the winter dreaming of what now lies before. Thinking of becoming a permanent beach bum, he/she drifts dreamingly back to the shortly before, adequate pile of summer clothing. Taking the well worn sandy path to which a hand rail has been provided for the over-indulged, our retailer begins the modest trip back to the land of conformity and winter.
Summer loose -Winter tight ? You betcha!
B