Peaceful Heart

 

The sun glistened across Manhasset Bay reflecting back towards the sky.
Several boats were peacefully rocking in the distance; creating a low kettle like
whistling.
The kayakers were warming up for the yearly championship race on the Southern side of the bay.
The strong crack of a wooden baseball bat in the distance heighten her senses.
Another home run for the second place high school team. And another wooden bat for the camp fire and s'mores party this evening.
The band shell was empty.
The decorative red and white streamers flying joyously in the wind. They were remains of last night’s Barber Shop Quartet performance and glorious memories.
The strong baritone singer was home sleeping after awakening every human organ Friday evening.
The early Saturday morning air had a crisp ocean scent with undertones of Basil and Mint.
She walked across the tough crab grass as the morning dew caressed her ankles. 
She whistled a whute woo and called out “Pee ta, Pee ta, Peeee A.”
He was the apex of this gathering.
“Which fruits and vegetables are singing for me today?” she asked.
A few people glanced up to see if they knew the face attached to this Queens voice;
while holding on to the vegetables at hand. Many of them had relocated from Queens or had family residing there.
They smiled and continued with their table farming.
Peter was there to greet her at the first table of the Farmers Market.
“How have you been ?
Long time since I’ve seen you.
You were a weekly.
Not anymore. You're missed.” He leaned closer and whispered “I hope your singing is still limited to the shower. ”
“Thanks Peter, great be back at the Farmers Market. Another beautiful day in Port Washington” she said with a smile.
She was from Queens and Port Washington was her get away vacation for a day escape destination.
Peter had a farm out east; which offered its own bounty of beauty.
“And I have expanded my vocal performances to my car and all rooms throughout the house.
No broken windows and the crystal is still intact. Thanks for the concern.”
They shared a hearty laugh.
He flashed his million dollar smile,
framed with dimples he called his diamonds. Strong dimples are a reflection of a life full of fun and sun.
Peter broke out in song . . .
“Many more to foll low. A strong bountiful summer harvest is on the way A A A
it makes me happy, very, very happy. Maybe a new boooat oat oat.”
Peter performed on Broadway in several plays many years ago. 
He was a triple threat. NYC and Broadway made him realize the wealth of the Long Island earth and nature. Peter’s aura was a huge glistening rock filled with sunshine.
Peter had a full head of black wavy 
hair and sparkling green eyes that opened your heart.
She always felt there was something mystical and intuitive about the gift of green eyes. They had a gripping magnetized force on your soul. 
“Such a beautiful voice, a gift to the world. I am looking forward to your summer concert at Eisenhower Park.
Everyone on Long Island melts and freezes from your first note to your last.”
“Thanks. I enjoy singing, the people and the laughter. Entertaining is in my blood.”
In a second the drama of theatrical acting appeared from this handsome man -
“And yes my gift to the world and to my heart and soul.
My audiences morph from
caterpillars to beautiful butterflies.
Elevating higher and higher and higher until the curtain drops and they fly out to
42nd Street and a waiting Uber.”
Ciao Ciao
Buona Notte 
Laughter exploded from him and the joyous crowd laughed and clapped.
Peter always cultivated happiness. 
“On that note ciao, ciao, see you next week.
My welcoming whistle may be replaced with a verse or two.”
“Please come back next week with the whistle, I'll sing.” said Peter
“Here, take this chocolate basil; the tomatoes are very lonely without it.”
She whistled and smiled and was on her way. A wonderful start to her Saturday morning.
Her heart was singing so sweetly.

Laura M