Island Moment

You wooed me with Polynesian names,
Poetically spun from the tip of your tongue,
Casually tossed into the windy island air
Woven together with the smell of flowers, blooming,
You promised I would find here.
You wooed me with hilly sand dunes,
Plummeting down into surf that can only be described as azure
Flecked from above by the leaning tree,
Scattering brown nutshells onto the sand,
Shading the wild turkey who softly clucks and coos into the moist air.
Days at the marina, speckled fish I have only seen in aquariums,
Darting in and out of the dusty slants of island sun
You wooed me with that.
The midday spray of rain, spattering mysteriously from a cloudless sky,
Maybe from the wind-tousled, nearby hills, painted green
Warm, gusty, lusty nights, mysterious in their fresh heat,
You wooed me at the local hangout- open air so that the island
wind, it blew through your sunburned hair
Eating a plate of Ahi, where 100 beers are on tap,
And the locals casually talk and laugh spilling onto the paper-box floor.
Music and laughter and flowers on the night's breath.
You wooed me with that.