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Quatrain Beach Poems | Quatrain Poems About Beach

These Quatrain Beach poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Beach. These are the best examples of Quatrain Beach poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Picnics and Sand

Now I know that beach side picnics and sand
No matter how careful the planning go hand in hand
But it seems whether you sit or whether you stand
Nothing quite goes as you had planned

It doesn't really care where it goes
And I don't just mean between your toes
In your eyes and up your nose
And it doesn't smell like a bleeping rose!

In my shoes and down my shorts
I believe with demons this stuff consorts
To going naked I might resort
And I know I've swallowed at least a quart

When this picnic is over and back home I go
To the warm water of the showers flow
I'll wonder if your troubles are the same as mine
Do you have sand stuck where the sun doesn't shine?

©Donna Jones


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Summer Day


To the beach, the sand , the waves A summer day with no sense of hurry Feet in the surf and the cry of the gull Appreciating a day without worry... Beyond the blue horizon such mystery Known to the soaring bird on the wing With a boat and dream I'd sail away To look for the answers to many a thing..... Just one day, in a book of singular days A memory now, that day at the shore But the essence of wind and the wave With me now, asking for nothing more....
6/11/13


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AT THE WATER'S EDGE

AT THE WATER'S EDGE As I sit here at the water's edge I let the sand sift through my toes I watch the sun rise in the east Turn the sky a glorious, summer rose. As it rises 'bove the skyline A burgeoning orb now glows A globe of fire then bursts forth As the waves lap gently 'round my toes. By midday it's a blinding ball of fire Pouring searing heat like Hades' pledge The beach's sand absorbs the raging heat But it's serenely cool here at the water's edge. © ELR 2013


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The Family Vacations

My wife is a hardheaded lady So when she makes up her mind Whatever it is that she wanted Is just a matter of time She wanted a family vacation Everyone must make the scene Including our kids and their families We are a group of sixteen The first one took us to Oregon To a motel on the beach Although everyone had lots of fun It was just too far to reach The next one was also held out of town A nice place on Lake Chelan With boats and skis and a swimming pool Everyone thought it was grand Went to Lake Chelan for two more years Then we found a brand new spot It was a big lodge in Idaho We all loved that place a lot We had that big lodge all to our self It was on Lake Pend Oreille It rained the whole week were there We played games inside all day Even though we had that bad weather The vacation was the best The place so big, kids played hide-and-seek Good visit, fun games and rest We returned there again the next year It has its dock and bay Water sports, fishing and paddle boats Then someone sold it away The next year’s vacation was different We rented two large house boats A week boating on Lake Roosevelt I got sick and almost croaked Then we went to Marrowstone Island To my daughter’s new beach place They caught crabs and clams, then bought oysters Crammed sea food into our face Then the guy boated to Port Townsend But when they were coming back Yellow boat died in the ferry’s lane They barely avoided a smack The next year it was back to Lake Chelan But at a different place One of the kids brought a small scooter Road it all around the place Two years ago, back to the beach house Played games and had lots of sun The tenth family vacation for us For two year’s now there’s been none My wife and think it is so sad To lose such a tradition Let’s start now and plan one for next year That is this poem’s mission
NOTE: There always seems to be confusion on pronouncing Chelan, but the locals say it "shuh-LAN" (short "A"). Also, Pend Oreille is pronounced "PAWN-do-RAY"


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Pen in Hand

Pen in hand or board with keys
     Toil with verse and rhyme.
What disappoints might later please
     Hasten borrowed time.

Chills run up and down my spine
     To think of things I miss.
So much is gone that I called mine.
     Tough to reminisce.

Years ago on any day
     Far and wide I’d roam.
Busy with best friends at play
     Seldom around home.

Now kids huddle on the floor—
     Stationary fun.
Competing for the highest score,
     Sit instead of run.

Guess I’ll wander at the beach—
     Spend time along the shore.
Ponder all that life might teach
     Had I a few years more.

With inspiration from and dedicated to Just That 
Archaic Poet and the Quatrain King, Jack Ellison.


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SEASIDE


Salty sea spray hurls moist fragrance;
Waves lashing wide strange melody;
Moods change and swirl with bright radiance;
Setting sun glides ever swiftly.


Last light will fall upon the sea;
Sky colours leach with fading sun;
Dark will bring gall with fading trees;
Now each to each stray lovers run.


Cicadas voice a June collage;
Frogs integrate a croaking muse;
Night birds rejoice wild entourage;
Why be afraid as you cruise.


Abruptly see through broad walk lights;
Struggle to stretch your eyeballs wide;
Mingle and be one with the night;
Come now and catch the windy stride.


Unknown faces appear and pass;
Keep still and watch the dance of dark;
Feel moist traces of rain in gust;
Wet winds to dodge in weary park.


Let us depart these dreary shores
Where darkness breeds a certain dread;
Let's make a start to feel light more
As poise now seeds peace unafraid.


Leon Enriquez
28 June 2014
Singapore


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Lullaby of the Night Crescent

Hold my hands and sing me to sleep

Before the dreams sink too deep

Through the night walk me to the shore

To a land where greetings are peaceful snores

 

Let the moon talk about the day

Let it tell off our journey to the bay

Let the stars carry me with the morning breeze

Back to the fields, the empty willow trees

 

Let the wintersun embrace the darkness in my head

Let it lift my soul from beneath the bed

Down the beach and on the shore

On the clouds with worries no more

 

Free of speech, my mind sinks to sleep

Free of love my heart trembles to keep

Free of fear, my shudders float astray

Free of noises my ears chase away

 

To safety to nothing make me see

To claim a state I may never be

Take me to the old willow tree

Where the white snow buried me


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FREE CEE dedicated to a lady who in Vienna we were poetry

i found her on a beach in belize
if you please
just sunning herself and taking in the sights and sounds of the gulls
watching ships past by with steady courses set and sturdy hulls
the sun dripped from her shimmer
as i sat blinded by her glimmer
she showed me what was beyond the shore
and so much more
she pointed to the horizon where blue meets the darkness at night
there she sat contemplating mankind's possible destruction and plight
her beauty shone like the sun i tried to hide my eyes from viewing
and being beautiful is all she was doing
and in so doing telling a story that was a warning to all
telling humanity to answer her fervent call
all she wanted was to lay on the beach unafraid of what was to arrive
if all of us didn't get together and learn to mutually survive
no waste to last for a million or more years
no more wars born out by tepid tears
no destroying the balance of nature of which she was too aware
as she sat by her father Neptune's lair
her mother shone as did the daughter i speak of
born from a family of peace, tranquility and of course love
so as the gulls flew by
and their chicks learned to fly
i continued to watch the ships past by sturdy and strong
and no one can convince me that her assertion was wrong
for most assuredly this was no ordinary girl
because this beauty was born of an oyster and her name was pearl
           (c) 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~


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FEAR of Sharks

When my kids were small and for several years We rented a beach house on the Gulf coast Where the sand was white and the water clear And the sunshine would feel as warm as toast Both Bruce and Mary Ann would join us there In those days, we had the beach to ourselves A week of fun without a single care Fish, swim and see sand castles built by elves Just clear water from shore to the sand bar It turns to a dark blue where it gets deep This day, Bruce and I were out pretty far Lying on air mattresses half asleep Some people on shore, strolling up the beach We both heard them when they started to yell They were screaming Shark! Shark! The sharks out there! Scared shitless, started paddling like hell Bruce is a tall guy, about six foot two While at my best, I stand five foot seven With those long arms of his, his mattress flew Way behind, I was praying to heaven Then it happened, I fell off the mattress Legs hanging down and floundering around Looking more like shark bait, increased the stress Fear was eminence; then my feet hit the ground Waded to shore, Bruce walked over to me “Take a look over there, was do you see?” No sharks, just a few porpoise swimming free Yet, out there, FEAR was as great as can be


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free cee I SUPPOSE SOME NEVER SO IT IS NOT THEIR'S TO LOSE

     I SUPPOSE SOME NEVER FIND IT SO IT’S NOT THEIRS TO LOSE

I was serenely secluded on a burnt sienna sandy beach situated somewhere between Heaven and my head
There were no rude intruders to induce insanity into the solitude to which I became wed
Married to the marvel of quietude
With gratitude
And a gracious bow to the host of a silence I’d been searching for everywhere
Only then did I come to terms with the fact that for many of the masses solitude is anywhere
They can silence the storms that threaten an otherwise cloudless day
They can mute out the madness and hold lightening and ludicrous lunacy at bay
While it took me years to find a kind of peace only I would be privy to
Breathing easy and resting under a roof of royal blue
The beach was precisely what I’d dreamed it would be when I was privileged to dream
On one side was the pacifist pacific ocean the other was the stillness of a stream
With willows all willowy and green
A place pristine
Pines that stood proud
But along came a lying, manipulating, and oh so sexy perpetual cloud
And that’s when I heard the beach’s peace cease
   © 2012....copyright PHREEPOETREE....~free cee!~

      


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Shark Attack

When my kids were small for several years We rented a beach house on the Gulf coast Where sand was white and water clear And the sunshine would feel as warm as toast Bruce and Mary Ann always would join us there In those days, we had the beach to ourselves A week of fun without a single care Fish, swim and see sand castles built by elves Just clear water from shore to the sand bar Then it turns a dark blue where it gets deep This day, Bruce and I were out pretty far Lying on air mattresses half asleep Some people on shore were strolling the beach We both heard them when they started to yell They were screaming Shark! Shark! The sharks out there! Scared us shitless, both started paddling like hell Bruce is a tall guy, about six foot two While at best, I would stand five foot seven With those long arms of his, his mattress flew Way behind, I was praying to heaven Then worst of all thing, fell off the mattress Legs hanging down and floundering around I looked even more like shark bait, I guess Scared to death, then my feet hit the ground Waded to shore, Bruce walked over to me He was mad and he said “we should kill them!” Take a look over there, was do you see The sharks were just porpoise taking a swim


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THE BEACH ENTERTAINER

Miles of broken, sunbaked seashells,
resembling pieces of porcelain of lesser value,
lying across a populous beach subdued by misty blue,
as hungry sea-gulls pounce the fiddler crabs..



The beach entertainer draws huge crowds;
singing funny songs and making comic skits
by spicing up his unique modus operandi,
and modestly mocking his modus vivendi...


He has never made lots of money,
but settles for dollar bills to earn their sympathy;
dressed in tight and colorful ministrel's attire,
he amuses the public with his monkey-shine...



And he pulls out his fiddler and the crowds go wild,
awakening, by its high-pitched sound, a dope fiend,
who has built a shack in this unsafe place always threatened by the blowing sand;
He puts on his dirty sunglasses and disappears in the groovy sunshine...



The beach entertainer follows him, leaving everyone behind, 
saying," Sorry, brother...I didn't mean to wake you up, the bum turns around with sad eyes
and exclaims, " Music doesn't fill an empty and aching belly...and cheer up a feeble mind! "
" Here's all I got...take it and get something to eat!" The beach entertainer whispers.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci