I need to see the sea
It soothes my soul
It heals my heart.

How can I think of selling
this old house on the beach
when it gives me so much pleasure?

All the money in the world
cannot buy me what I see
from my windows –

a panoramic view of sand and sea
that goes on to infinity.
A painting only God can create.

Why then do we hesitate
telling the broker the deal is off?
Is money more important than happiness?

Has this house not been an escape
from the hectic hustle bustle of our lives?
Has the ocean breeze not cooled us in summer scorch?

Has this cozy house not brought us closer?
Have we not found comfort in our Fire Island friends?
Have the soft ball games not made you feel like a star?

I write by the sea, about the sea.
I paint by the sea, sea-scapes and beach scenes.
I collect the flora and fauna from the sea.

I walk the beach each day to find "sea stuff"-
beach glass, sea stones, shells, and driftwood.
Do I give this up for money?

Won’t a beach house keep its value?
Can’t we decide to sell some other time?
These questions kept me up all night.

What if we don’t sell and a storm comes?
What if the house is washed away?
Will I be sorry we didn’t sell?

The answer is NO!
This old house has become
part of who I am.

It’s old now, but still has charm.
It’s weathered many storms, as I have.
It loves being close to the ocean, as I do.

It needs a lot of work done
to restore it to its original beauty.
I too could use an overhauling.

It had to have steel re-inforcements
to make it stronger, just as I had to do.
The similarities are uncanny.

My house and I are intertwined,
old girls by the sea, weathered and worn
but still standing.

This house is ME
How can I sell myself out?
I CAN’T! I WON’T! THAT‘S THAT!