Chef John Malik

a writer in a cook's body

Shore Lines


Sands of Fortune swirl past my eyes

As the bleached bones of the un-living

Are once again cleansed by the tide

Frothy water hushes our exchange

While we walk in search of constancy

on this ancient shore of change


Her many layers of faith, quietly challenged and bent

The breeze stiffens, demands respect

Vacationers, gulls and tents

Where confidence once reigned

Uncertainty lingers, questions left unsaid

Adrenaline and speed once hallmarks of summer’s sweat

Fleeting as these mussels now long dead


Joints protest as sand retreats, foundation becomes unsettled

Her hand reaches, fingers searching, steadiness offered now

Her smile calms this sea

Quiets the breeze and begs

Hold my hand and walk with me

Whisper to me

While we renew

Our vow

Author: ChefJohn

Cook without tattoo, writer without a pen


Please add in your two cents.

%d bloggers like this: