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Quatrain Summer Poems | Quatrain Poems About Summer

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

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In Your Dreams

Was it all a sweet dream or just reality?,
  I sit and ponder that very thought,
During the daylight and in the nighttime,
  Wondering, were we ever there or not?

A crescent moon smiled down on me,
  Shedding it's white light upon the ground,
I sat amongst the petals, waiting patiently,
  And it was there, that me, you found.

Lavender flower petals I did pluck,
  As I was seated atop the green hillside,
Does he love me, or does he not?,
  My love for you, I could not hide.

I only saw you as a dark silhouette,
  A shadow that walked upon the ground,
Among silver stars and a midnight sky,
  Your gentle voice was the only sound.

My darkened silhouette was no longer alone,
  While yellow fireflies around me dance,
When you came to join me atop that hill,
  In the meadow's softly illuminated romance.

I was embraced within your arms,
  As your most tender kiss met mine,
On that one warm summer's night,
  When our kindred spirits did entwine.

So sad was I when the time came to part,
  As the rising sun shined golden upon my hair,
Although, what a beautiful dream it was,
  When I awoke and found you there.

        Waking Dreams Contest

            April, 4th, 2014

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

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Summer Nights

The smell of the summer night air 
Takes me back to times we shared
You and I dancing beneath the moon
Crickets playing a lovers tune

Trees full with lush green leaves
Whispering poetry to you and me
A view from beneath a Missouri bluff
Talking of passion, love, and lust

Your hand in mine strolling the path
Sitting on the deck and looking back
Picnic tables and barbecue grills
Driving and parking, is this for real?

My memory’s filled with your sweet love
Do you remember that snow white dove?
A kiss goodnight under a star filled sky
Best friends forever, a promise, no lie

It excites me to think that every year
Whether life or memory I return here
We will create magic again I know
On a summer night in the moon’s soft glow

Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend

*inspired by John Heck’s “Summer Celebration” contest

Copyright © Lena Townsend

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The sun plunged in the space of silence

The sun plunged
In the space of silence,
The summer has been extended
In a slow wandering ...

The orb has been drunk,
Gradually, by fringes.
> We did not hear anything,
From the fall of the angel ...

The horizon has folded its wings around
Confusing the distants ...
Evening invades what remains of the day
In a jiffy.

Water reflections exchanges
The colors overrated,
With the sky full of oranges,
The trees are just  silhouettes ...

The night the already marks yesterday
This is a timely opportunity,
Where piercing      welcoming clouds
unfolds, shamelessly         ,the moon ...

It will take an earth tour,
And plenty of patience,
For the solar triumph reappears 
In its rebirth  ,

As clarity rises
And progresses slowly
Until the most intense moment,  at its solstice,
To the top of the firmament.

And the celestial body  draws,  now
All things ,        in gold drops  ,
..... -     And this is another day.
It drinks in his turn and evaporates it....

Le soleil a plongé
Dans l'espace du silence,
L'été s'est prolongé  
Dans        une  lente errance...

L'astre a été  bu,
Petit à petit,    par franges.  
>      Nous n'avons  rien  entendu,
De la chute  de l'ange...

L'horizon a  replié ses ailes, autour
Confondant les lointains... 
Le soir  envahit ce qu'il reste de jour,
En un tournemain.

Les reflets des eaux échangent
Des couleurs surfaites ,
Avec le ciel tout en oranges,
Les arbres         ne sont que silhouettes...

La nuit,            marque  déjà  l'hier,
C'est l'occasion opportune,
Où, perçant des nuées  hospitalières,
se dévoile, sans pudeur,        la lune...
 Il faudra un tour de terre,
Et beaucoup de patience,
Pour que réapparaisse le triomphe solaire,
Dans  sa renaissance ,

Que la clarté  se hisse
Et progresse lentement,
Jusqu'au plus intense,      à son solstice,
Au sommet  du firmament.

Et l'astre dessine maintenant ,
Toutes choses en gouttes  d'or,
.....    - Et c'est un autre jour.
Il le boit à son tour,                    puis l' évapore....



Copyright © rene Chabriere

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Days of Summer

There comes the time when spring has run its course And summer days lay heavily on the land When eager steps have slowed to garner strength The stream runs slowly as if in reprimand Summer's wealth oozes like honey from a comb Horizon stark, not a cloud to soften the sky Evening settles round like a golden cloak And life seems slower as summer slips on by

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick

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Once Upon A Summer Night

Once upon a summer night
when the moon hung high
as crickets played their nightly song
and diamonds filled the sky
I saw a tiny angel
dancing on the breeze
she did a pretty pirouette
with such grace and ease.

I thought I must be dreaming
upon this summer night
for to see dancing angels
is not a common sight
and yet I was undaunted
by what I chanced to see
her loveliness was soothing
she had enchanted me.

I followed her along a path
I had not seen by day
while crickets played their lilting tunes
and diamonds lit the way
to a little piece of Heaven
I was soon blessed to know
where tiny dancing angels
must surely love to go.

Bands of tiny angels
were gathered on this night
dancing angel dances
joyous in their flight.
My heart sung out to see them
for such beauty to behold
exists in only fairy tales
or so I have been told.

So now upon those summer nights
when the moon's hung high
as crickets play their nightly song
and diamonds fill the sky
I look for little angels
dancing in the air
I keep my eyes wide open
for what I might find there.

Copyright © Robin L. Gass

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Summer Nights in the South

Summer Nights in the South Green fireflies blink in the quiet of night and our sleeping old dog heaves a sigh. Dreaming, she sprints through a youthful blue sky chasing delicate clouds, cotton-white. A red-sunset tanager* colors the warm air from a perch in the majestic oak limbs above professing by lullaby, sincerely devoted love, like some sublimely recited evening prayer. I lay back and smile, through the leaves, at the moon to the sound of crops rippling in the breeze thinking how precious are nights such as these when alone, with the Earth I commune.
*Summer Tanagers (Piranga rubra) are native to the southern U.S. but are not true tanagers. They are actually members of the cardinal family. 08/01/15 Submission for Contest: Nature Poems Only Hosted by: Shadow Hamilton

Copyright © The Grahamburglar

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A Summer Walk

The sun is slowly rising and a soft wind gently blows
We are heading for the beach to feel the sand between our toes
There is something about the summer sun and a walk along the shore
That tends to put your world at peace as you hear the ocean's roar

The sound of children's laughter and the smell of tanning lotion
The taste of salt in the air from the mist coming off of the ocean
Sea gulls against a clear blue sky and a ship with its' sails set
These are days that will live in our memory, days we'll never forget

There are palm trees, music and a carousel as you make your way along
And a young woman in a bikini, her body swaying to an island song
There is a rhythm to the pounding surf, unchanging day to day
That tends to ease a troubled mind and take your blues away

Will you join me in a summer walk and be there at my side
Will you run with me into the water and swim against the tide
There's a bench out on the boardwalk, we can sit a while and talk
Then head back home together as we finish our summer walk.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr.

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Late Apple Themes

 come kiss the frost 
from off  late apple themes 
the carnival is coming into town
where everything is nothing that it seems
hitch up the pony,
take the surrey down.

 Let's take the long way 'cross the summer bridge,
the one where first you dared to touch my hand,
I still love seeing sunsets from the ridge
and down below the colors are so grand.

the county fair is finer from up here
all candy apple reds and spinning  beams 
the zephyr through the pines is all we hear ,
a place to sit and contemplate our dreams

the fantasy is kinder than the truth
recall the ferris wheel at sweet sixteen,
let's share that secret summer of our youth
and go back home to cherish where we've been.

Copyright © Johnette Loefgren

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Into The Sunset

I have the need to feel free
like I've got nothing to lose,
I just want to get into my
blue convertible and cruise.

I'm growing tired and bored
of this same old abode,
I want to go much further
than just down the road.

I ease my dark sunglasses
down over my brown eyes,
as the summer evening sun
begins setting low in the skies.

My hand grips the steering wheel
and my foot holds the throttle,
as my lips take a long drink
from a cold Coca-Cola bottle.

I reach over and tune my radio
to my favorite rock station,
now I feel like driving through
every state in this nation.

I won't know where I'm going
until I finally get there,
All that I want to do is enjoy
the wind blowing in my hair.

I hold my hand out the window
to feel the air through my fingers,
I wish that I could always be
where the free spirit lingers.

Around the endless curves
my car disappears into shade,
far away in the distance
my bright red tail-lights fade.

I pass by rows of green trees
and a thousand birds on a wire,
the sky blazes a yellow-orange
as if the clouds were on fire.

I could not imagine anything
better to end this perfect day,
than an amazing view of sunset
out on this lonesome highway.

The air is becoming cooler
as the day blurs into night,
I feel so awake and alive
in the sun's fading light.

I keep traveling on down
this lonely two-lane road,
I drive into the sunset
and forget my old abode.

May 8th, 2014

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

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Fire-flies sparkle in the late June night
The show they put on is quite a sight
Both old and young do delight
As darkness fills with their display so bright

They bring to life many childhood dreams
The world around you becomes magical it seems
The evening air becomes trickling streams
Of flashing lights with no set routines

It's a favorite game children play
I guess it's always been that way
Get a jar, dash about and sashay 
But, not long in one place will a fire-fly stay

When they do capture a treasured one inside
It's shown to everyone with such pride
But after a few moments often decide
The magic to the jar they should not confide

So, off comes the lid so it will go
To join the others in the wonderful show
And as they grow older, I hope they know
To pass on this game, learned long ago

©Donna Jones

Copyright © Donna Jones

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Memories On Branches

An old board and a rope had made me a swing,
Sitting there when I was around the age of nine,
I curiously looked up to see the first sign of spring,
Where a robin was building a nest of twigs entwined.

Summer's heat burned my shoulders, so I sought shade,
I climbed up into your strong arms at the age of fourteen,
Along with a book, I relaxed in a solitude no one could invade,
I found myself lost within the pages and the leaves of green.

On a lazy, autumn afternoon, at the age of twenty-three,
I raked the dead leaves that buried my feet into a pile,
Through the orange limbs my black cat peered down at me,
Then leapt from the tree to play among the leaves for awhile.

Now, as I am rapidly approaching the age of thirty-one,
Branches are encased in ice, as winter continues to unfold,
From my window, I see the cardinals and the disappearing sun,
Reminding me that life still survives in the bitter cold.

March, 7th, 2014

Gail Angel Doyle's contest - "Memories On Branches"

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

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When summertime has kissed the rose, And nestling trees blossom so fair The dappled leaves twirl in repose, Bathed in mist’s spray… beyond compare. I crave her touch on paths winding Like a damsel amid lush grass; Sultry when the vibrant breeze flings, As limbs thrusts in passion’s contrasts. On blushes of night’s wild glimpses Embroidering her russet veil; In slow movement… this enchantress Drops heat’s thrill while she bids farewell. As mornings welcome Autumn’s gold My breath lifts in a mellow way, When tinsels of fog glide… to unfold A silver whirl through fall’s ballet. Kelly Deschler's Summer's End Contest 8/30/2014 by nette onclaud

Copyright © nette onclaud

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Last Night I Dreamt

Last night I dreamt
That the world was all at rest
From vice exempt
Filled with songs of mortals blessed
And we waltzed to the strains of a song
'Neath the arbour of love and repose
Glad in heart at the absence of wrong
'Mid the lilacs and hedges of rose

Last night I dreamt
That I danced the night away
In some attempt
To hold back the morning's gray 
And we waltzed to the strains of a song
'Neath the arbour of love and repose
Glad in heart at the absence of wrong
'Mid the lilacs and hedges of rose

Last night I dreamt
Of an arbour filled with light
And then I wept
When it vanished from my sight
And I've naught but a memory dear
Of the dresses of silk and brocade
Of the moon and the stars shining clear
And the fond wish that I could have stayed

For the contest "Last Night I Dreamt..."
Catagory: Serious
Written 7/29/13

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst

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Out of the blue
And into the grey
As the clouds roll by
The sun goes away

As the rain settles down
And washes the air
Tomorrow will be
Light, crisp and fair

Puddles on the road
Mud in  the driveways
And grass that is wet
Such are summer days

The sound of the drips
Of rain drop splashes
The rumbles above
And lightning flashes

The chill that it brings
A cool from the heat
Making life fresh
And the air smelling sweet

Then the rain goes away
And the sun peeks out
The kids run outside
And jump, and scream, and shout

Out of the grey
And into the blue
The clouds are all gone
The day's bright and new

Copyright © Sean Taylor

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The Moon

like rambunctious boys at play clouds drift across the moon masking its face in mystery light given and then gone to soon this fitful little summer storm playing ticks whilst lovers swoon we know it can not hide for long our secret charm, the summer moon

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick

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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....

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick

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Green striped globe, trailing vine,
Your glories I relate;
Summer fruit, taste divine,
You grow in southern states.

Thick, heavy rind confines
The richness we await
Sweetened by hot sunshine,
Red joy upon my plate.

To choose well I refine
The skills which help equate
What hides in green shrine--
Pick best one in the crate.

Yellow belly--one sign,
A hollow thump will rate,
Sweet watermelon, mine,
"Best one I ever ate!"

July 9, 2014

Copyright © Faye Gibson

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A Community Pool in Richmond

Paper art was tongue steeped wet,
Midnight’s swim in gel.
Tactile only silhouette,
Dense unseen new shell.

Dawn’s hot shower could not clean,
Midday’s warmth woke me.
Slow cures had tapped time’s canteen,    
Blotter’s spell rinsed free.

Contest: 7/5 Trochee
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Form: Quatrain

Copyright © rob carmack

Details | Quatrain | |

Summer Sun - form swap quatrain

Sun is shining, all is well
Lovely summer they foretell
Found winter clothes so restraining
All is well, sun is shining.

Fields of rapeseed, like molten gold
Enjoyed by children freedom untold
Run in the shade amongst the sheaths
Like molten gold, fields of rapeseeds

Let's have a picnic, we're hungry 
So much running will get sticky
Dressed in shorts looking oh so chic
We're hungry,  let's have a picnic

Pies and sandwiches, lemonade too
Will be too full to run and jump, so
will rest my head, so full with such riches
Lemonade, pies and sandwiches.

Swap quatrain form

21 March 2014


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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

Copyright © Miss Wattle

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When We First Met

Written by: Kelly Deschler & Mustapha Mohammed

You and I have grown up together
Side by side, through now and forever
The one day I will never forget
Is that summer day when we first met.

How sweet the soothing songs of June
When glory birds would hum their tune
A moment in time, and joys and longing breath
Was the tender day in summer, when we first met.

As the sun warmed down upon the beach
We knew a true love was there in reach
Something captivating held us, and yet
It was only the day when we first met.

When feelings sweet clung to our hastening hearts
The dreaded thoughts of saddest days departs
We tread the earthly fields of lingering dews and wreath
On velvet blushing throngs, the summer's day we met.

Your steady hand resting gently in mine
We watched the stars above shine
Amongst an orange sky as the sun set
On that bright June day when we first met.

Even as my eyes descends into yours and drowns
Even as we dance to night's enchanting songs
We've kissed 'neath the moonlit climes, my love forget
Not the sparkling moment, the summer's day we met.

The changing seasons continuously unfold
And still our love has not grown old
O, how would my heart ever forget
The most beautiful day when we first met.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

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Summer Fun

Summer Fun
Summer was not much fun in the teenage years
In fact there was very little of it but lots of anxious tears
Then the summer disco started in the village hall
We couldn’t believe our luck we were gonna have a ball.

But who would come to a village disco not on a bus route
There were only about fifteen teenagers, and they were all related to boot.
Oh what joy, the army camp, sent in the boy cadets
We were all allowed to mix with them and this we did you can bet.

But there I was wallflower self- conscious feeling dull
Not asked to dance by any boy no one to give a thrill
Until the tallest most handsome boy, his smile lit up the room
Came and sat with me you should have watched me bloom.

He was the catch they all wanted, but none could catch his eye
Just me sat in the corner, and he never passed me by
At the end of each dance night, we walked home hand in hand
His kisses they were magical, I was in some promised land.

We only met once a week through the summer of seventy-two
What a summer it was full of fun and happiness and never blue
I often wonder about that boy who kissed so well at age thirteen
What a catch for some woman, and of his kisses I now just dream
© 09/09/2012

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl

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Fall Comes Softly

She came to the ball in splendid fashion Her entry slow and sure, full of graces Her perfume spoke of the smells of fall and her sweet breath soft on summer faces.... Taking summer by it's trembling hand They waltzed together across the fields Knowing they would meet again next year And celebrate in glory when summer yields.... For the Fall contest

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick

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Tides of June Memories

The tides of June carry me over yesterday's sparkling waters to the distant shores preserved in my mind. Playful summer memories are just a light twinkling in my eye, pressed into worn photo albums, I find. Hotter days conjure thoughts of friends, no school to muddy the rippling lake and hours of summer fun. 'Last one in 's a rotten ..., splashing 'round, we kept cool, cannonballs and belly flops, a relief from the ruthless sun. An old boat dock became our fort, buckets of tadpoles were our mascots. Our neighborhood breathed new life and laughter... bikes flung upon the grass, lake waters beckoned of adventure 'til the ice cream man's music brought sweet dreams to chase after. Michael Jackson, The GoGos and Duran Duran played the soundtrack for our restless days. From our fort, the radio blared across the yard. Warm breezes held music and secrets of boy versus girl attacks. And though we often complained, the boys were never barred. Many years ago, summer time brought treasured carefree days of hide and seek, dodge ball, board games and cold lemonade. Slip and slides, cool lake swims and running through sprinkler sprays, all happy memories of our never ending June days on parade. By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders for Memories of June Contest (Joann Grisetti)

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

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Tangy summer , breezes in heat Through minutes you forestall And drench the moonlight so replete Beneath your fiery kohl. The silken air drapes blossoms scent Releasing fragrant balm Then rustles every tree’s lament In fading season’s psalms. Mild nights release stars’ blinking glow Caressing burnished ease, That only your zest can bestow The ending of caprice. Beneath the parting of glossed beams As days wither in space; My August passion falls downstream Yet held in your embrace. Summer's End Contest of Francine Roberts 8/26/2013

Copyright © nette onclaud

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Summer Dream

What do I have to
look forward to?
Maybe, it's who and
I long for the day
when I'll see you,
And your smiling
face again.

©2014 Honestly JT

Copyright © Honestly J.T.

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Summer Fun

The rest were born in spring or autumn,
I was Mama’s summer child.
Perhaps that is the very reason
I’m by summer days beguiled.

I counted hours until my birthday
On the seventh of July,
Rising crescendo of excitement 
Before happy birthday high.

There were the gifts of lady-fingers
That my brothers helped me light.
Attention from my loved big brothers
Always kept my birthdays bright.

One week’s stay at Uncle Charlie’s
Playing with my favorite cousins,
Aunt Lillian, relaxed and loving
Baking cookies by the dozens.

Then back home to little sister,
Teaching alphabet and numbers,
Those sweet days of early childhood
I’m reliving in my slumbers.

Written: August 30, 2012

Copyright © Joyce Johnson

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Longing for Summer

With spring still in the offing
My mind sometimes jumps ahead
To the joys of the summer
With its beauties all wide spread.

When strong winds have left my valley
As warm breezes take their place,
And the rains have turned to showers
That refresh my eager face

And flower gardens are competing with 
A riotous bright bloom
As the yard of every home serves as
An outdoor living room

From the dew drops of the morning
To the fair skies of the day
I wish the delights of summer 
Would not ever go away.

Whether playing golf or fishing
Or lying on a sun drenched beach
Summer is as tantalizing
As taste of a fresh picked peach.

But since I can’t coax summer 
To stay for more than ninety days,
I will have a fling with springtime
And her bold coquettish ways.

Copyright © Joyce Johnson

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Summer Fun

At age eleven, had a paper route
My papers were dropped off about daylight 
I’d be waiting there when they arrived
I’d fold them and delivery from my bike

Then with my tennis racket on my bike
I’d head for the park to play a fun sport
My brother and some friends would be waiting
That early we could always get a court

I cherish this summer time memory  
Early morning tennis four times a week
It made getting up less of a burden
A fun time, following work, was just neat

Later on I played tennis in high school
I even joined the High School tennis team
Enjoyed the sport in college and beyond
But my “park tennis” memories reign supreme

Composed Aug 30, 2012

Copyright © Charles Sides

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A Maryland Summer

Our Robin’s nest on twenty-eighth bayside,
strung like the Kite’s Loft display.
Free and now flowed with the tide,
as we watched the sunrise of each day.

Center courts of youth and bouncing Penns
pushed full throttle jet skis into romances.
The moon lit footprints in amends,
as Hope laid us down with chances.

The sun’s vixens sat on boardwalk benches,
their penthouses held one night Seacrets.
Tired of searching for pearls in surf’s trenches,
an open air preacher passed out leaflets.

Dice throws into Fate and riptides,
doused by sea foam and sand bars.
Eastern block girls ran carousel rides,
their accents glazed smiles and fast cars.

Ribeye’s and tuna steaks on the grill,
Harbor Island’s slow gas dock --
a seventy-foot fishing boat it couldn’t fill.
Canvas Sperry’s dried on a sundial clock. 

The one Turtle that sat near Jamestown,
looking up and down coastal highway.
The Greenest oasis we could find in uptown,
seagulls carried her eggs far away.

To days fully lived and expressed.
To what was held and what transcends.
To goodbyes and route fifty going west.
To that summer and all the friends.

Contest: Memories of the Sea
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst

Copyright © rob carmack