Guest Post:”Palm Beach: A Love Letter … Of Sorts” by Liona Boyd

As Palm Beach closes down for the season, this week’s guest post is a poem about the town from world-renowned classical guitarist and part-time Palm Beach resident, Liona Boyd.

She first recited it for the members of the Palm Beach Writers Group a few weeks ago. She had us nodding our heads in agreement on some of her observations, and in stitches of laughter over others.  I have featured Liona and her personal recollections about Britain’s Prince Philip in a past blog. Liona is known as the First Lady of the Guitar and has played all over the world for queens, princes and presidents.

Here is Liona Boyd’s poem from her latest autobiography No Remedy For Love:

Palm Beach: A Love Letter … Of Sorts

I walk the boardwalk streets alone 

Towards my palm-treed Palm Beach home

The breezes tousle up my hair

With balmy, ocean-scented air

What secrets do these gates conceal 

The topiary, these streets surreal

Where do I fit, what role to play

Do I remain or run away?

Philanthropists whom we admire

Come here to play or to retire

And well-heeled widows by the score

Hand down donations to the poor

How many con artists and crooks

Have hedged their funds, and cooked their books

How much is real, how much pretend

The Donald greets me like a friend

At Mar-A-Lago’s grand events

And fundraisers in floodlit tents

An heiress and a British Lord

Run mansions they can ill afford

The polo players, Counts and Earls

The ancient dowagers in pearls

The trophy wives who wanted more

Ferraris, Rolls and yachts galore

The sunglasses, the jewels, the Porche

The white designer dogs, of course

A baroness, dear friend of mine

Air kisses as we sip the wine

And gossips about who’s in town

In her Versace evening gown 

Like Prufrock’s women off we go

To talk of Michelangelo

I’ll pose like Paris, drop some names

I’ll play our superficial games

Not quite my world, not quite my dream

This fantasy, this movie scene

Yet somehow I feel happy here

And I’ll return year after year

To find my peace, define my space

My island home, my special place

But what is false and what is true

Just walk along Worth Avenue

Past Saks and Gucci, Pucci too

And ladies lunching at Taboo

Where tiny courtyards can be found

And sunlit fountains splash the ground

Where jasmine scents the evening breeze

And orchids drip from Banyan trees

It’s here I chose to build my nest

Amongst the worst, amongst the best

Contented to be warm and free

From northern snowstorm misery

Give me my Bougainvillea

And mismatched memorabilia

My paintings, bright and fanciful

My carpet bought in Istanbul

The Christmas tree that still survives

The photos from my different lives

My sculpted bronze from Mexico

My etchings and my prize Miro

The music stand that’s seen so much

And three guitars that crave my touch

For them I turn down invitations

No man meets my expectations

Alfie, what’s it all about 

Life’s too damn hard to figure out

Is this my book, or my next song

Is this the place where I belong

Or will my restless heart rebel

Is it too new, too soon to tell

And so I live life day by day

Not knowing if I’ll go or stay

Arrive December, leave in May

And love Palm Beach… in my own way.

Liona Boyd © 2015 Mid-Continental Music

For more info visit www.lionaboyd.com