Mother Ocean please
Send me waves of such beauty
I need Therapy
Dedicated to my Dad on Father's Day 2013
The man who introduced me to the ocean and educated me about it and gave me reason to love appreciate and respect it.
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.
Sifting warm sand
through my fingers
lustrous fine grains
glitter my palm.
by the soft powdery touch,
I sit for a while
under the rocks
My bare feet
swirl patterns in the sand
as I idly watch
a beach life unfold
Bustling mother’s set up home
on plaid blankets
colourful beach bags
thick with togs and towels
strewn all around
a picnic stored carefully
under a shady umbrella,
they gather the children
skip giddy with glee
on lithe limbs
with index finger
of do's and don'ts.
My gaze drifts to
little pink sisters,
their chubby faces
alive with imagination
as nimble bodies
straddle the sand,
all wrapped up
in mounds of castles
studding their dreams
with pearly shells
and whispering tales
of pretty princesses.
At the water’s edge
long legs prancing
tip toeing warmth
into the chilly sea
up to their waists in
dipping and diving,
an ocean of laughter
as young lads play
splashing and yelling
a ball in the air
Picking up my sandals,
I walk up the beach
under the bridge
past crimson valerian
It’s balmy perfume
scenting a delicious day
There's this girl that I know who misses her home
The place filled with laughter, her joy, and her hope.
This girl, she is sad, and I've seen her heart break.
She just doesn't belong here, and she doesn't want to stay.
When she's at the beach she just sits and she stares
Across the water to who knows where.
The ocean is the one place she has found on this Earth
That fills her with any kind of peace and hope.
Though still she is sad, she's not where she belongs,
But at least at the ocean the fierce homesickness calms.
She'll walk down the beach and look out at the water,
Totally uncaring of those who might watch her.
She knows she's not normal, that she isn't like them.
But she knows that they cold never understand.
This girl that I speak of, how I know her well. Yet at the same time I hardly know her at all.
It seems to me as I walk down that beach that
I'm never gonna know of who I truly speak.
Because as long as I'm here, so far from my home, my heart, my pain there, my hope,
I am only half here.
I am only half home.
And all that I want....I just want to go home.
The shore is what I have seen since I was little
when I grew up it was so far in the distance to see.
Walking the distance when I was a child I was so brittle
to notice the path was so warn out to me.
The little strides I took was not so bad
it was just how it ended up when my mother had my hand.
She pointed out to the horizon to make me glad
that I could look out and see the sand.
The look in her eyes was so beautiful
it was one of those moments that can be captured.
My mother showed me the path and told me to be careful
to not worry about the pain she pictured.
The final walk up to get home was a bummer
because it was the sign that ended my time their.
My time at the beach and the sea was the end of summer
that is when I said, I will be back I swear.
The path might be warn more and more out
even when time passes and when I get older.
My memories of my mother and I will last with out a doubt
with time I get smarter and much bolder.
The tide is coming.
Rheumy eyes lost on the horizon. Misting, over half memories.
Vera Lynn keeping us firmly in the past. Time in the present ever shorter.
Flask piping hot, burnt lips. Lunch heartily eaten.
Talk of family long-gone and family non-existent. Half finished sentences.
Singing until hoarse, oblivious of time and place.
Home before dusk or enter a world of anxiety and confusion.
The tide is gone.
I shall miss Sundays.
There is a place i go that is deep in my heart and soul
remembrance of my incredible childhood fills my mind.
Building sand castles on the beach and watching the Victorious Ocean
crash high above the rocks. Roasting marshmallows and making smores in
my grandmothers back yard the sweet scent of woodsmoke and chocolate
fills the air. My soul begins to dance as I hear the Bluejays and bluebirds singing
there morning song waking up the earth. They also have remarkable wings and amazing
eyes when the sun hits them there eyes turn vibrant hazel green. Walkingon the beach
feeling the warm sand between my toes it warms my heart. My Grandmother's soul
will forever soar with the bluejays and bluebirds singing there morning song waking up the
earth. In memory of My Grandmother Marjorie Roberts May God Rest her soul!
By Julie Rene leek
Out on the beach with an amazing guy. The sun's so pretty, the sun's so bright. We're walking and talking about all our good times, against the world, hand in hand. Smiling and walking on the beautiful LA sand. We sit on a bolder and watch the sun set. It's an amazing day, one I will never forget. You slip your arm around me as we as we look at the beautiful sea. "I love you," I say as we feel the cool evening breeze. "I love you too," you say and pull out a small black box. I look at you, smile, and my heart stops. You open the box to reveal a beautiful ring. "Will you marry me?" you ask as my eyes fill with tears and my heart starts to sing. My smile gets wider as I say "yes". You pull me close to your chest. I gently kiss you as a tear rolls down my cheek. You brush it away and smile at me. "I love you," I say one more time. "I love you to baby," you say as you smile, "now your deffinitly all mine."
Today's the day, the day that starts the rest of our life. The day you become my husband, the day I become your wife. The last time I saw you was last night. But I woke up to a beautiful sight. A bouque of beautiful red roses lie on your pillow with a note on top. "I love you," it says, "and I can't wait to see you." I smile and whisper "I love you too." I take a shower and walk down to the beach to see how much is done. I step onto the hot sand and I feel the hot sun. It's almost done so I start to head home. I need to here your voice so I call your phone. "Hey babe," you say, "is everything okay?" I tell you everythings fine, I just need to hear you. I tell you I love you. You tell me you love me too. You say you have to go but you'll see me soon. "Okay, I love you," I say and look at the clock, it's almost noon. "I love you too," you say and the line goes dead. I look in the mirror and put my hands on my head. I smile and start to get ready for tonight. The first night of m new life.
I take a look in the mirror one last time. Just to make sure my beautiful dress is fine. I walk down to the beach and wait by the gate. I fix my veil and look at my friend. "You look amazing," she says and puts some flowers in my hand. "Thanks," I say and smile. I can't wait to walk down the aisle.
On the Beach Watching the Waves and....
I was sitting on the beach watching the waves
thinking of all the lives I've saved
my job is a thrill ; my job is hard
but I adore it, 'cause I'm a lifeguard
at times my mind drifts along with the waves
into a leisurely daydream some of the days
but then, I awaken to reality when I hear a scream
so I jump into the water to save yet another
Good thing I did ! 'Cause it was my mother!
Even as thunder boomed mighty overhead
and power lines on San Domingo Avenue outside
faltered and succumbed to the tempest
the Ortegas stood breathless in the family room, gaze transfixed
upon the television screen like so many deer in the headlights of a truck.
Finally a flash from without, and a snap
extinguished all light within the household. Ten seconds passed
without a sound. Then the father uttered something and
the family members scattered, each returning a moment later
bearing possessions of infinite value. Within a minute,
all had crammed into the station wagon, evacuation route ingrained
within their minds like a seed of hope.
All but one. Manuelito had been lost.
The mother howled and flied back into the house,
tears streaming down her face hard as the rain.
She reached the back porch, and to her eternal shock
found Manuelito standing alone on the beach like a mannequin
eyes locked upon the Cyclops-eye of the storm.
The mother cried out through anguished sobs
in vain, for the howling drone of the wind overpowered all
and when Manuelito turned around to face all that he loved
he did so with all the finality of a grown man
resolved upon his course of action.
The mother abruptly ceased her crying, and
her countenance briefly matched that of her son
as she, too, turned her gaze upon the jewel center of the storm
and was hypnotized by the awesome power of the divine.
At length she regained self-consciousness, and her eyes
darted back to that segment of the beach where her son had been standing
but his figure, like a stream of sand on the dunes of time,
had been replaced by nothingness,
the allure of the unknown and
Poseidon’s call of wild fury
too strong to resist.
the in/out of waves
on stony beach in sussex
and seagulls crying ;
as a child does for the breast
of mother, towelling dry