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Beach Nostalgia Poems | Beach Poems About Nostalgia

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

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Details | Free verse | |

My City

Of the Gods own country of this paradise where green and blue merge as one in the north is a city that encompass the beauty where the dream lands meet lined by kaasaraka trees where seven tongues are spoken and a unique lingo was woken lined by shores and calm beaches which meets with forts of ancient elegance who can pass by with no notice the mountains high and hillocks of beauty forests green and tranquil rivers places of worship, unique structures renowned for coir and handloom and for its customs varied The people here, with a smile of warmth welcoming with open arms known for their variety dishes which does prick ones tastebuds of the sense of fashion who can beat their passion and their thirst for knowledge is to be acknowledged fame it has know from times of yore of the arts and culture it beholds this is the city of budding talents feel the vibe and do relent © Nadiya(14 May '15)


Details | I do not know? | |

The Beach of Promises

The Beach of Promises


1.


Fingers entwined, barely touching,
turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes,

strolling along that serene deserted beach,
our promised dreams within aching reach.


2.


Hands clasped, holding on,
sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck,

walking together, alone, vowing to never breach,
the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach.


3.


Hands in my pockets, alone,
traces of you linger, teasing,

lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach,

my thoughts ablaze, now and then,
catching a whiff of your fragrance,

wafting through alleyways of nostalgia,
your hand in mine on our pristine beach.




Details | Blank verse | |

The Beach

Sun kissed sand, Waves crashing, Seagulls laughing The Beach Feel the heat dancing on your skin, Filtering through you, Penetrating your skin The Beach A contradiction between your senses The cool, cold water lapping you Surrounding you, Taking you in with every crashing wave The Beach There is an island beyond the horizon The clear, blue sea surrounding it The grainy sand behind you Clinging on to you The Beach Close your eyes Let the heat penetrate you, The water envelope you Because slowly Slowly, It’s time to leave


Details | Free verse | |

Sandalwood Fan

Sandalwood Fan

On the verandah of the Moana Hotel
Not too many years ago
Under the great banyan beside the
beach at Waikiki

They would bring a fragrant sandalwood fan
to all the guests that ordered tea.
They set it before you in its own fancy stand

the most alluring fragrance wafted on demand,
when you opened it’s carved blades
 and gently  fanned. 
 Given  to holders on an honor system
Understood to  return on leaving…

Sadly, too many proved    untrustworthy.
after a time- these fans became  un-available

A friend who had shared many tea- times there, with me
one day -sent me a small gift from China
A slim package which when opened re-kindled memory

A glass topped case holding a sandalwood fan
just for me

Suzanne Delaney


Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple





My Wishes are Simple


My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.



My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.



My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.





Details | Lyric | |

The Apple PASTURE

DONE



                             The Apple PASTURE

Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.



                                               Jay


Details | Free verse | |

Winter Beach

After the rain, 
the speckled glint of shimmering sand
is now muddy brown.
Like a blind, closed tight on the warmth of summer,
the winter beach has shrunken in,
changing the colours of my day into
a darker palette, shades of grey.
The sun shriveled
pale faced and worn
as the cold season begins.

Seagulls a beacon
against a slate November sky
their sound, comfort to a lonely beach.
The steps down to the water, pea green,
slimy weed on stone
bright against an ink-rippled tide.

Seaweed colours bleed into my mind while
textures playfully mingle.
The salt air stings my nostrils
caresses my lungs with wellness.
Sea sounds carry from the shores of Wales
as I crunch the length of the ebbing milk tide.

I look to the horizon and imagine another me
walking a beach somewhere over there,
listening to my thoughts, 
as they channel the sea
Grateful for this beauty, the gift of the nature
I look over my shoulder, my footprints remain
solid, as in a freshly cemented path
their sound, echoes in the shells.


Details | Free verse | |

Ottawa Beach

Seagulls soar
on a whispering west wind.
Waves flow
onto shoreline of white warm sand
and sandcastles grace the beach.

The sun looks down on its worshipers
from a billowing sky of blue and white.
A butterfly lands
on a wooden chair
and children laugh.

Noisy jet skis
powered by gas and testosterone
cleave the pristine sea,
while sailboats lazily drift
like swans on a rural pond.

On a midsummer day,
we drink in the nectar
of a Lake Michigan beach.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Sieve of Time



The Sieve of Time



Cast ashore,
along the banks of time,

whirling through the passing years,
clinging to my futile scribbles set in rhyme,


Cast ashore,
thrust into an unrehearsed pantomime,

clenching slivers of joy as weariness descends,
lulled into a peaceful slumber exhilaratingly sublime.


Cast ashore,
hazily adrift, a dandelion seed on the wings of time,

trapped in the sieve of spiralling memories,
caught between pristine bliss, and reeking slime.


Cast ashore,
flung aside for no discernible crime,

my human heart thuds with elusive hope,
though battered, bruised, and covered in grime,

I stagger ashore, 

alone,

embracing each moment of detached, oblivious time.



Details | Rispetto | |

Our Summer Fun


The summer sun shined in the sky like a jewel. Dad and daughter happily played in the waves. Beach sand was hot but the saltwater felt cool. This day in my memory, I'll always save. A ride on Dad's shoulders always made me smile. Holding my hand, we walked the beach for a mile. My dad wearing flip flops and his cut off jeans, searching for shells, my mind's eye relives the scene. Hot dogs in hand as sea gulls swooped down to spy, hoping to steal a bite of our beach cuisine. Sodas in cans, rock and roll played in hifi, bare feet in the sand, body doused in sunscreen. Details have faded over the many years, but this day's imprinted behind salted tears. A vision of ocean sparkling in the sun, hearing Dad's laugh on the shore, our summer fun By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, April 14, 2012 for A Summer Memory contest (Frank Herrera) Third place


Details | I do not know? | |

Port of Call

Port of Call


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

with the breath of the ocean a caressing balm,
soothing pained memories away,
to the swaying of a solitary palm.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

feeling the brushing away of all past turmoil,
on a quest for solace, ever so hard to find,
yet comforted by the crashing of the waves,
as the tide cleanses all pain,
and leaves despair far, far behind.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

drenched in a sea-breeze of mist,
that hushes the ache of bygone moons,
tasting the salty tang on my lips,
as the burnished sun,
over the distant horizon,
swoons,

and dips.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

searching, ever searching,
for a slice of solitude,
as memory bids a final adieu,
reaching under the sea so vast,
and seeking comfort in the depths,
while embracing,
the tomorrows to come,
wishing that they be true.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

seeing my truths drown,
as they slip beneath the turquoise waters,

feeling my heart ablaze,
with a passion that rarely falters.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

yet knowing that I am home at long last,
wishing the waves would wash away,
the defences that once stood,
like an impregnable wall.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

I have found, at long last,

my final port of call.


Details | Sonnet | |

nostalgia

Nostalgia 
There is an island small near the airport and is connected 
to a small bridge. In summers I used to take my dog there
for a swim… the dog liked to swim but not far and long, 
just too cool off. Parking was no problem back then and 
dogs were allowed. After swimming we walked to a café 
I bought a litre bottle of water, cupped my hand so the dog 
could drink too, I read a paper and the dog found a shade.
Drove back yesterday wanted to see if there had been any 
changes, the beach was full of sunbeds, each one with
 a parasol and it cost money by the hour. Those who didn´t 
want to pay had a stony part of the beach they resembled 
a flock of seals on a reef. It was all so organized and clean it 
looked to me like a military encampment. No, nothing stays 
the same, my dog is dead, has been so for a long time.   


Details | Free verse | |

Coast

The waves have come to unravel doubts And spread them over footprints to heal the sand An invasion that brings violent shivers To the wraiths of the nautical miles Thoughts raced when I heard the names Of they who are nowhere to be found It was impossible to escape this sore Without burning the edge of my thumb I regret that I didn't rid myself of them sooner. I couldn't have been gone for so long. I could tell I was inches beneath the earth. I was with the darkness that preceded dawn. Night masked the shores with the face of Death. I remember how they disappeared into thin air. From the fall to today, what I've been missing I dare not even say. The waves have come to take my doubts Back to the seabed as unwanted guests The wraiths will shiver into memories. May they all find a place to rest #1858: COAST ©Jake Ponce [March 21, 2015, 8:56am] neptunerune.tumblr.com


Details | Free verse | |

Memories Of Virginia Beach

Unpacking the sweater I was wearing
on the beach, under that veiled sky
bathing me in the late summer’s heat, 

I can hear the surf, the daring waves
surging up like greenish snakes and
approaching sideways, hear the white 

noise hissing at the tops, I can see 
them washed ashore rolling toward me,  
watering the hot sands of my memory.


Details | Cowboy | |

The Beach House

I’m building castles in the sand
on the shores of a grey, grey sea.
The clouds have gathered overhead
and the shells are wave-washed clean.
Footprints wander down the shore
of the vast and vacant sea,
the waves are buffing them away
and turning the sand sateen.
Beyond the berm and the waving grass
inked upon the setting sun,
someone sits in a house of glass
as sand through fingers runs.

I’m watching seabirds dodge the stars
when the waves reflect the moon
and pulling seaweeds from the rocks
they drearily festoon.
And the sand’s run out of the fingers now,
and the drink’s run out of the cup;
the house of glass is quiet now,
all the shutters drawn up.


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Poets' Day, At The Beach ... '

The  Men, Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves
The Women, Splashed and Sprayed and Splayed
And Laughed and Cried In Salty, Foam-Crests
In Liquid-Blue, Up To Our Breasts …
On Bright, Shine Afternoons …
Or In Fog, Floating In From Coasts, Subdued

And The Men Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves
Playing and Surging, Roaring Out Praise
Buoyed High, Bobbing Up and Down
So Quick, So Strong, The Men Swam …
And Women, Wet in Swimsuits
Carried Away Corals and Seashells, As Loot

Putting Them To Our Ears, Everyday
To Hear What Echoes of Sea, Had To Say
And On Soft, Crystal Sand, Pearls, We Did Lay
As The Men, Rolled In … Like Ocean Waves …


Details | I do not know? | |

A Day at the Beach

Textured jewels approaching the horizon
Funneling velvet water 
With exhilarating sky
Lush beach fingers the sunset
~
Delicious day ends 


Details | Narrative | |

Ristorante Le Tre Sorelle

LE TRE SORELLE 


My favorite spot in Italy, and perhaps anywhere, was Ristorante Le Tre Sorelle 
in Positano. It was at the bottom of at least a hundred stone steps, just on 
the right, and right on the beach. A hundred steps seemed like ten, with 
delights for the senses on every step. Chic bikini shops with tan young clients, 
tiny pastry shops, ice cream vendors, mini-galleries, and lone musicians, all 
bathed in the soft bright sunlight of the Amalfi Coast. 

Le Tre Sorelle had affordable pasta and a priceless view. Between 
checkered tables and cobalt sea marched the ancient beauty of humanity in 
every form and state. 

Over espresso, we created names for people in this parade, to suit our 
fancy. “There is Mr. and Mrs. Cold Obtrusive boring Mr. and Mrs. Kind 
Receptive.”, we might say, or, “There is Mr. Old Fat Rich failing to interest 
Miss poor Young Georgeous.” Sometimes we would separate our unwitting 
victims into “should wear bikini”, “maybe should”, and “never should” 
classes. We made up other rude categories depending on how much wine 
we could afford with the affordable pasta. 

The challenge of youth in Positano was to find a place to sleep for free. 
Step one in this quest was to find a pretty girl who also had a hotel room. Step 
two was to persuade her to share it. Step three was to sleep on the beach. 

But the beach was duly patrolled by the Beach Patrol. So the trick was 
to dance in the last-open disco until everyone, including the Beach Patrol, 
were too tired to care. Then with luck, we could borrow some fisherman’s 
boat cover for the night, until the fisherman went fishing. Still, this meant 
one or two good hours of sleep. 

Besides, at sunrise, we could swim in the sea and chill ourselves awake, just 
long enough for the first espresso of another beautiful day, at Le Tre Sorelle. 

In spite of youthful nonsense, the crushing beauty of Amalfi, both human 
and stone, pressed it’s lovely wisdom deep inside our souls. 


Details | Pastoral | |

A DAY AT THE BEACH

It's summer, It's hot 
and I'm praying It won't rain
on my way to the beach
riding the F train
I get to Coney Island 
and from the boardwalk I see the sand
looking out towards the ocean
on the beach I now stand

a day at the beach
I can hardly wait
to sit under the rays of the sun
and play in the waves
I lay down my  blanket
and set-up my umbrella stand
I place my cooler of goodies
firmly in that sand
I slather on the sun blocker
for I need protection
I stand at the water's edge
at look down at my reflection

a day at the beach
frolicking in the ocean's waves
a memory form childhood
that I will treasure and save


Details | Senryu | |

Clearwater Beach

I hide from the sun
Children play with sand and spades
A day at the beach


Details | ABC | |

IN THE WORDS OF A GULL

The beach below....
The way the wind does blow
The sea....
A sparkling jewel of blue
All for me....


How the sun rose...
Magically everyday
Full of colour and light...
Pure screech of delight...
Things I can see
Far below....
Where I can play

Everyday...
Something new
Far below...
A jewel of blue
The sea, that I love so...
The sea....
Where I play

The wind blew...
Carried me high...
Pure screech of delight...
Above a sea...
A jewel of blue
That reflected the sun's light

The day passes so swiftly...
Darkening sight
Coming of the night...
I must return to ground...
Rest,hear that sea sound
Wait patiently for the return,
of the light

A sea....
Sparkling so blue
The beach below...
Fill my heart so
The wind can blow
All for me...
On a day,
enlightened too...

The sun....
Rose for me....
Full of colour...
Full of light...
So I could fly....
On another day

Upon a silvered wings,
polished by the sun
The day.....
Made for fun
What it can bring
For me....
Upon a sparkling sea