Had Hoped to Find
Started sorting out and was hard to tell
Which one would be my favorite shell
Then did consistently, constantly, compare
All lying by beach shore here and there.
Some were round and others oblong and odd
That had been made by our great God
All of various colors and many designs;
Several with spiral and also curvy lines.
Through shells started to separate and strain
While ocean waves played a sweet refrain
Asking me why I have become a big creep
All of God's precious shells trying to keep.
In each day mornings will always break
So I then said to myself for goodness sake
Will be best if lovely shells are left behind
For others who often had hoped to find.
~ Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P. S. ~
When it comes to a friendly hi!
One of the best poetry, hearts we can't deny!
Our Sweetheart Linda Marie
No one is smoother and sweeter than her- our peach tree
Always stopping by to say hi, no matter, rain/sleet or snow
Her contest Zany Zoo, one of the soups best show
A woman who never judged me from the start
Linda Marie, thank you for being such a sweetheart
Sharing her delightful poems, a double doze for me
Oh Me- Oh My- That woman can write so much poetry!
I am sure she is loved by the poetry soup staff
LOL! How this blonde bombshell made us laugh
Remember, when she took her laptop to a sandy Island
She smiled, and shared, how the laptop was damaged with so much sand
Hanging out with Linda, it's like singing "Kumbaya my Lord"-- I felt her holding my hand
How sweet of Linda, when she invited us to meet her new Husband?
Linda Marie is loved by her very own BBF team
Letting us know, life has been more than a dream
Her heart so big, she worried when her BFF's weren't around
Leaving notes, making sure we have not hit a poet break down
She keeps us in her heart when we are not logged in
Her beautiful and clever/witty poem will forever remain
Most of her poetry made me smile
Linda Marie's poetry had so much Style!
We prayed for you when we heard about your son
Thank you for sharing your faith in God. -Linda You're #1
A poet I highly recommend
Linda Marie my poetry soup best friend
~Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P. S. ~ 2012
~I"M gonna miss you, 2013
Happy birthday to you :-( Don't leave, 2013
(STILL MISSING YOU) Love always, YOUR BFF -- 2014
Sending my Heart, To one of the soups Leading Ladies
RIP. Linda-Marie Bariana You are forever loved
Such a romantic place on a beach in Monte Carlo
Simple little things in life catching one's breath
Moonlight glinting of waves breaking off a white sandy beach
Faraway thoughts brown eyes crying in an ocean dream song
Spell of romance makes one forget the sense of anything
Silent whispers echoes binding our chain together tides speak
Do you remember the white doves that followed us along the beaches
Each link in your arm magic walks closer feelings sing inside a joyous choir enchants
Nature nurtured by the desire to fulfill dreams makes time stop
Holds deep sea emotions a galloping white steed races home in warm waves kiss
The natures mesmerizing perfume of fragrant flowers
Where destiny paints the joy in butterflies dance on a warm loving breeze
Such is the passion in the depths of ones soul
Jewels needle vision flies without wings heaven sings in a spiral coloring rainbows
No barriers closed no reasons withstand
The midnight moon shades blue embraced one shadow two become one dream
A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and Anne-Lise Andresen
Sand swishes between toes, pulls you toward peace
the palms fanning you, slowly, like a lover feeding grapes.
Birds peek shyly from the understory, sometimes hover
and chirp-nag you for disturbing their nest.
Every wave splashes me toward the permanent home
beneath the sea, crabs praying on life, tangs spitting
more sand, and more sand, its caught in my eyes
and I most doze, bake and doze, submerge, swim
until its only my toes realizing there is life, sand
edging up on me from every side, counting the lines
down to where there is an end, breath choked off
because all the sea, and sand, and prayers, and prey
can no longer get to me. I've walls of peace swaying
gently like a snake hypnotized before the charming pipe
to say come home, and know I'm always home,
always home, praying, praising, the rise and fall of sand.
A is for algae, red, green, blue cells, soaking up sun, sliming teeth
B is for bacterial mat, clumping underneath, earliest born, never asleep
C is for coral reef, the place we all find cover or the sand parrotfish chew and release
D is for diatom, all seeded calcium, all float free, all denizens barely seen
E is for eelgrass, nursery meadows of the anchovy, and other browsers of green
F is for fan worm, filter feeder like a flower, 8000 species on which fish feed
G is for giant kelp, floating on bladders of air they’re forests of cold waters clean
H is for helmet, the royalty of snails who protect our feet, queen, emperor, king
I is for isopod, the chameleon crustacean, they color match what they eat
J is for jellyball, or cannonball jellyfish, not upside down or moon, avoid their heat
K is for keyhole limpet, favorite food of ochre stars, will erect its own wall
L is for laver, the sea lettuce of nori, it swirls red skirt as ocean falls
M is for mermaid’s purse, the sack of the skate whose yolk keeps them alive
N is for nerite, the prisoner striped snail of the rocky zone as numerous as a hive
O is for oyster drills, the snails that slurp oysters and use them to lay eggs
P is for pleurobranch, a sea slug answer for oranges, with one active leg
Q is for quahog, the bivalve seaman who can survive eating the mud
R is for rove beetle, the one waiting to snatch the unwary beach hopper for good
S is for saxitoxin, those red tides produced by mating that can paralyze humans
T is for tubular sponge, they squish, bore and encrust as space lends
U is for urchin, those spiny skinned balls, no eyes or noses but dig food in sand
V is for Venus, Music Volutes dined or Vampire Squids skimming along land
W is for whelk, not the musically inclined, but the slow moving snail in a shell
X is for X and a half, the six rayed star, hungry for anything on the half shell
Y is for yucca, blooming on the beach, they bloom nice and tolerate the sand
Z is for Zostera marinara, the address of eel grass when they're feeling grand
All of this green life is what crunches, stinks, dries and slips underfoot
The rest that find the housing and dining compatible means someone’s on the look.
Swirling drifts of sugared sand
slipping through your sun-jeweled hand.
Treasure seeking on the shore
as up above you seagulls soar.
Billowed hair on skin so golden;
for this warmth you are beholden.
Maybe hike a mountain high
and gaze into an azure sky.
Or waltz along a forested path
at times enduring nature's wrath.
In gardens and fields so lush and green
sweet summer fruits are everywhere seen.
A sparkling season of beauty and sun
too soon is ended once begun.
written 1/3/2015 for Shadow's contest
Walking softly on the evening sand.
I can feel the softness of you hand.
I don't need to try and find the words to say.
Enjoying things that make me feel this way.
The sand feels so loose beneath our feet.
This moment in time makes me feel so complete.
Looking across the water as the sun slowly dips.
Like a huge animal that's bending down to sip.
I can smell your sweet fragrance with you so near.
The winds faintest of whisper ringing in my ear.
Forever in time, this moment stands still.
Aching to hold you so close, that's how I feel.
A walk on the beach, hand in hand, like we just met.
There's just nothing like it, we are sharing the sunset.
-Not for any contest
Who would imagine that my life would come down to the edge of a blade
worked and worked on stone, scraping off goo and removing the bites?
Or that when I tumbled and rolled in the surf, unsure what was up.
storm rolling hard against breakers that I would remain intact?
It’s breath holding time, while rain smashes down, winds howl and the stir
rocks you until you forget your name and then finally silence, the deep breath
sauna time arising with sun, I scramble for cover, glad my Teva sandals
prevent the shells slicing at my skin, I must duck down into forest
looking to quench thirst, handy filter bottle in hand to conquer
all the parasites and villains unseen about to attack what is left.
Forgive me then, Father, for I have fallen to worship my survival blade,
prying out oysters, scraping out crabs, peeling the papaya
for I drink well of thy wine, fruit of my body, rendered and purified
and wander as I will through this vast new place I’ve come
lost to find self, and prayer for the fragile web of blessings
that save me from skewered, smashed, expiring, but shaded by your love.
3rd march2012, by: Sashi Prabhu (zeauoxian)
Form: rhyming couplets
Sandy tracks, still and dormant, lie await for us,
Virgin sands of Malvan beach, its breeze my body salty caress.
Through the grooves of coconut palms swaying tall,
We trudge to the sandy shores backpack and all.
Green thatched leaves. Crowns of glory, shade it extorts,
Swinging hammock to nest me in my denim blues shorts.
A strong breeze blows saline pelagic scented odor across,
Blue waves melt to foam, kiss shores, hued shells emboss.
Lonely eagle soar virgin blue skies,
More of the brood join in and glide past fishing boats floating by.
A murder of crows feast on our eaten table,
As in the warm waters we dip, the crows our food they garble.
The waves sound gushing rhapsody repeat,
Us jovious beach bums in water enjoy the sunny heat.
Dry fishing boats on logs they are on the sands to park,
Lie along akin, like silent serpents, waiting for dusk to embark.
Sea gulls they glide over silver wavy waters,
Food seeking dives perform, for them that’s what matters.
A pack of dogs they frolic with glee,
As the fisher folk heave coir ropes dogs from there flee.
Golden sunlight darts out of stagnant clouds formless,
Group of lads, beach volley ball they play tireless
As I sit ten meters away from wet sandy shores,
Melody erupts as waves repeat encore.
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
Waves are rolling kids laugh silly
Off my feet what fun oh dilly
For Andrea's Contest
A day comes with a
For the words, less
to cope all few,
The breezy wave and
Of rising sun, view
the Himalaya highs,
Held me there,
caught me freeze,
And the prevailing
dusky downy haze,
To falling cascade
of ivory rays,
Where I hied to let
I look & look, with
a glance and gaze,
With winking eyes
with hot cap,
I observed their
And whence the sun
rise and set,
Sparrow and humming
beak to get,
Food to survive and
And live on sharp
edgy curvy stemy
Above the grove and
in dense forest,
peace dwells in the
levitate and birds
And oscillate with
A bird in this
Jingle jangle and
Are not base
They rise through
Up to our believe
They are alive and
I ask my conscience
where to hike,
Stood here and there
or by riding bike,
To feel the scent of
this rainy December,
Over my worries and
silence to end
Made one statue,
stunned one bright,
And I put my towel
to have a shower,
This congeal water
pierces me by power,
Oh ablution is
enough for adequacy,
Count on, fend off
And when I walk on
The emerald tint
fell a shadow,
Upon my eyes to
Where the earth,
laid with several
The invigoration of
spirit rises up
On rambling off and
on, this grassy
Over this belt with
No alternate of this
land, O nays,
Where I felt about
Falling, right left,
up and down,
Then I move here and
there, up-to sun
To meet buoyantly
this sunny light,
The sun with
magnetic warm and
This morning with
Cause a man to wake
Sing a flute while
sitting under an
How this mean, a
life less of
Won’t you thrill
this grudgingly by
A world, an
And a life with
plenty of beach’s.
To sit in the confines of knowledge
At a desk the colour of porridge
An air of unescapable heat
At a desk the colour of wheat
The lure of the Mail Online
At a desk the colour of brine
Looking at Jamie Kirby's broken leg
At a desk the colour of regret
We're dancing barefoot by a moonlit sea,
Silhouettes of two lovers so fancy free!
Sponsor: Juli- Michelle
Contest Name: Rhyme Battle: Round 6
Most days I go to the beach. I like to sit
in the warm sand and watch the waves.
Like a parking lot, the beach is heaving
with day trippers who have come to play.
Mostly I like to watch the body surfers,
as they maneuver and swim out brave.
I have known this rush of speed and foam
crashing over the tops of breaking waves.
But lately I prefer to sit and breathe,
and catch some whiffs of my long lost days.
I sit on the sand bathing in the sun
Watching my boy have loads of fun.
A shovel with sand held in his grip
My son enjoying his first beach trip.
He is loving the ocean wave after wave
His sand castle he jumps on only to cave.
He is covered in sand head to toe
And runs back to me and says let's go.
We run towards big waves and jump into the water
He and I laughing and then finding a quarter.
We are having fun in the ocean and then we see
A dolphin, some fish and a crab that is attacking me.
We go walk the beach when he stops to draw
A heart in the sand with I love you mommy done with his straw.
At first the sun's fingers
Poke up just a bit,
Seeming to find the ocean's ledge,
They grab a hold of it.
With radiant arms extended,
It raises itself higher,
Then sits upon the ocean's rim -
A fuzzy ball of fire.
I was sitting on the beach enjoying the dawn
When along comes a crab with two fierce pincers drawn
When I shifted off slightly to give him some space
He sat down beside me with pincers retraced.
This fellow was not of the cute well known kind
But a creature evolution had let lag behind
His shell was a tangle of shiny shellac
A dashed wall arrangement of polka dot black
I wondered to myself would he think it queer
If I asked him the question what are you doing here
Since I was the human who traveled the land
And he just out walking on a dry piece of sand
So we sat there in silence each in his own space
Yet somehow connected in the rising sun’s grace
As he walked to the water with an eight clawed resolve
Was he thinking to himself would man ever evolve?
Retracing those steps made eons before
He paused where the waves became one with the shore
With a last look around taking time to regroup
He gracefully entered the primordial soup
I was going on a vacation with my family one day,
We thought we would head down Louisiana way.
It was great being with my wife and daughter,
Until I saw a black bird coming out of the water.
It struggled to get to the beach we were on,
When we looked again, it seemed to be gone.
But it was there, floundering on the beach,
Along with the fish, shrimp, and other birds just out of reach.
All of them were strewn on the beach so far,
Each was deathly sick, and blackened like tar.
The sand which I knew should have been pristine,
But the vision we saw was a totally different thing.
The waves that approached were black with goo,
Carrying more dead and dying creatures too.
"Can't we help them, Daddy?", my little girl said,
"Not now, dear, as most of them will be dead"!
"But why are they dying?", she said to me,
How could I explain about the oil from BP?
"There was an accident from an oil company's rig", said I,
My little girl looked at the animals and began to cry.
I tried to explain that man uses so much oil,
He has to drill in the earth, sometimes in underwater soil.
"Well then we need to stop it if the animals die!"
"I know", I said, "We just haven't tried".
"I will try harder to not use oil", she said,
"Especially if so many pretty creatures will end up dead!"
I held her close and wiped her tears,
Knowing full well that she was wise beyond her years.
"I'll try too", I said to her,
Not wanting to see this again occur.
So I've made a pact with myself to be,
Less OIL dependent so that others may see.
If I have to walk a little more than so be it,
It's better than having to watch the death of an Egret.
Pehaps we could all take a stance,
And with Big Oil, not take the chance.
For anytime man's greedy hand gets into the mix,
Then the environment is always in for a fix.
But we can change, adapt, and try to help out,
By being less dependent of Big Oil's clout.
We had to come home early because of the spill,
Like most people, we tasted that bitter pill.
So now on a crusade with my daughter I will go,
Trying hard to advise others and put them in the know.
Especially of what I have seen thru my little girl's eyes,
Those sickening deaths under clear blue skies.
I will do my best to get others to stop in their oily run,
Not only from BP, but Shell, Citgo, Marathon, and Exxon!
High as Ever in the Sky
An eagle is high as ever in the sky
Watching whole world passing by
And occasionally does look down
To see what still exists all around.
Boat sailing on river or down a stream
Or might be making of a new dream
Which tries to form now in my mind
As a clock again I will have to wind.
Trees are tall with background green
From grass creating a pretty scene;
Then eagle starts to look overhead
For lost souls and those that are dead.
With one flap of wide wings, He will glide
Knowing God should never ever be denied
And again on all life does gain a grip
With end of each wing, claws and beck's tip.
Your eyes-The open sea
Each gaze, a wave, engulfing me
Caught in the current-Strong and fast
Drowning in moments-Deep and vast
I grow less certain, everyday
If I will be able, to find my way
Back to shore
On Second Thought
On second thought, I stand corrected;
We actually, truly are very connected;
Back and forth poems always sharing;
Things about them constantly comparing.
Maybe corrections may have to be made;
Then back and forth ideas we will trade
Until happy balance eventually do reach
The both do decide to stroll on the beach.
Should we write a poem about beach sand?
And two lovers holding each others hand;
A beautiful sunset settling on a silent shore
All around are dainty colors that I do adore.
All of a sudden dusk is finally will be here
Thoughts of another poem start to appear
Will write them down and carefully read
God gave me exactly what I did need.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Jumping up and down at the age of seven,
Ready to go by the time it was eleven.
Hand in hand us four went down,
Dad,Sis, Little Sis and I, holding no frown,
Until we reached the edge of the sand,
When Sis exclaimed,"Oh my land!"
For there as far as the sea,
Were giant jellyfish as lifeless as tea.
Before Dad could yell,
On one I almost fell,
There and then, I looked for my sake,
That the jellyfish seemed to wriggle and shake,
Screaming a scream too high to seem,
Like a human's voice inside the theme,
Of a lovely, sunny morning.
Thank goodness it was only my imagination forming.
So we trudged back in sadness,
For the morning suddenly turned to blandness.
Yet it stuck to my mind,
Reminding me in every kind,
Of way to watch where I go as I talk,
Especially when I walk,
Onto a beach,
That's in a jellyfish's reach.
Looking Back Long Ago
We were looking back long ago
While time went by seeming so slow
Distance between time kept spreading
Would do something they were dreading.
On a broad beach boots hit the sand
After seeing sight of a lonely land
On shore was sort of a light breeze
Enemy was on hills and up in trees.
Screeching and exploding sounded loud
Later that day heads were all bowed
Thanking God that they did survive
Being in one piece and remaining alive.
At Normandy we each dutifully performed
After the troops on shore had stormed
And only thing we saw that now remained
Was either blown to bits or blood-stained.
PVT Lester E. Deschler Died July 12th, 1944
in a tank explosion. He is now buried at
Normandy America Cemetery and Memorial.
Am unsure if he was an uncle or great-uncle
of Ms. Kelley Deschler a Poetry Soup lover.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Make sure that you have signed peace petition at above website.