Earth’s sphere of fire bids adieu to me
As dying embers gleam across the sea
In rare hues reflected by autumn trees,
Swirling in motion with October’s breeze.
I feel the joy this season has to share
In golden harvest that the branches bear,
And I am thankful for this blessed year,
For divine abundance I share so dear.
The sun and moon take on a special glow
As thunder clouds move swiftly with the flow.
Yes, autumn coaxes feelings to revive,
Those mem’ries of past seasons still alive.
When autumn spreads her dress of lacey frost
I know, in breathless beauty, I’ll be lost.
© 2013 Connie Marcum Wong
Again I shield my eyes from ocean's spray
While lifting eyes of hope to search the sea
But seas and skies are endless, troubled grey
My hope deferred; how often must it be?
I'd give my life to see him safely home
And all once more his windswept face to see
"And what," I ask, "compels my love to roam?"
But only wind blows keenly on my ear
While here I stand -- forsaken for the foam
My hope deferred gives way to tho'ts of fear
A ship alone, perhaps not still afloat
Yet still I wait, and hope he cometh near
A sail I see! and greet with hopeful smile
But hope deferred - must wait for yet a while
Based on Brition Riviere's painting, "Hope Deferred".
Such tender whispers waft on salty air
On foggy mornings waves are brushed in gray
I hear you then as winds caress my hair
Your murmur’s soft, but I know what you mean
The day will soon come when we live as one
You know I miss the sea scent in your clothes
Our earthly union – life had just begun
You asked for “waders;” I said, “What are those?”
On morns like this I put your waders on
Reach out and search in misty sea for you
The realms separate us will be gone
To vows we made so long ago, I'm true
My lover, teacher, mentor and best friend
The bond between our souls will never end
*This is an English sonnet
Entry for Debbie and Cyndi's Sonnet contest
Dedicate to my late husband
Written January 15, 2012 for Francine’s “4 forms, 4 themes” contest
Theme: Lost Love
As the men of the great sea carry me
Assuring them of safe travel on water
Courage and serenity are given free
Am restless anxiety adjuster
Feel so soft smooth as nestled in pocket
Look deeply into my pale blue colors
Ye men of wide sea who wear bluejacket
Those who my purpose are sure acceptors
How my healing powers strength your heart
Throat, spleen, immune system, mouth, ears, breating
Offering protection for journey chart
Constantly in your pocket safely abiding
Mental, emotional, physical
Aquamarine polished smooth possible alchemy
Written for Stoned Contest
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey
Contest had closed when posted
My Captain! Oh, my Captain! Captain, mine!
The sea, that wretched tempest rolled you deep!
She kept you from me squandering the time!
How long before you're free this vixen's keep?
Each day, in vain, I walk the roof top watch,
While searching the horizon for your sail.
At night, by lantern light, I touch each notch,
Where last you carved our names within the rail.
By candle light I read your letter sent,
About the journey's quest and your return.
How travasties and sickness unrelent...
But, still, your love eternal for me burns.
Tonight, upon the widow's walk I stand...
The moon reveals your footprints, in the sand.
~by deborah burch©
For "Debbie and Cyndi's Sonneteer's" contest
When the time arrives for me to depart
from the sunlit harbors of the living.
Take me aboard a navy fighting ship
and carry me back again to the sea.
Order the boatswain to construct a skid
made of wood and painted with fresh white paint.
Build it to hold a gray weighted coffin
draped by Old Glory with her stars and stripes.
Cruise the coast of my beloved home Whidbey
until full abreast with Ebey’s Landing.
Muster the funeral party astern
Play taps and slide me into the blue drink.
Let the storm-flecked waves of the rolling sea
take this old sailor to his final peace.
The night emits a citronella scent
From tiki torches topped with living flame;
I swim in circles -- softly speak your name --
While starlight washes over us, content.
Cicadas still sing secrets to the trees
Like Summer's heartbeat throbbing in the dark --
While on a new adventure we embark,
Sped onward by a silent, gentle breeze.
Your kisses ripple slowly down my spine --
Your touch is strong and steady, like the tide --
Warm bodies wrapped in motion dip and glide --
You turn the turbid sea to fragrant wine.
The rising moon gives witness to my cries;
Tonight I drown within your ocean eyes.
Sea horizon in the distance ...a clean line.... a quiet shore
Every day the ocean washes up something new on its sandy floor...
Today, the sea formed haystacks of seaweed piled quiet high
Yesterday sea sponges and fan-shells lapped the crunchy sands
Gentle humming of soft ocean sounds humms by to and fro
Seagulls squawking , flying in unison form a V- like kite formation
Their pale eyes widen as red feet and beaks hover and flutter
Two yellow labradors swimming and weaving from shore to ocean
Bounding gracefully into the water , chasing and jumping in unison
Tirelessly,effortlessly running along their beloved ocean shore.
Young dogs greet each other in an excitedly ,friendly fashion.
Horses hoof prints embedded gracefully in the shoreline sand....
Broken glass edges made smooth with the sands abrasion
Oh wonderful mobile reflecting the sunlights warm sensations!
On the writhing shoreline’s shifting sand
The thrust of the immovable hard land
Under the foaming white wedding dress of the ocean
Resolves their differences, puts their destiny in motion.
In endless rhythm of sheer strife,
The soft all-pervading giver of life
Swells o’er the sure-faced surface of her mate,
To and fro, in and out, in a perfect fit.
She shapes the hardness of the land and he,
Massively strong, just as surely shapes the sea :
The end of one is the beginning of the other -
On the shoreline - this father and mother
Share the task, create and shape
Each bay and bight, each coast and cape.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sonnet written by Sydney Peck 23 January 2012 for Francine’s contest.
Theme : lasting love
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
*This idea for this poem was ”inspired by”
( hi-falutin language for “stolen from” )
Andrea D’s LAND-OCEAN haiku. Thank you A D.
The Atlantic Ocean’s tide is ever flowing
I listen to it in my cottage by the sea
And at night so peacefully I sleep just knowing
I’ll hear it in the morning; it’s a guarantee
Few things in this life can be taken for granted
Perhaps only faith and nature’s constancy
But the sound of the sea is somewhat enchanted
Always offering a sense of serenity
I’ve chosen to dwell here for the rest of my days
It allows me to cast all my worries aside
There’s a hope in my heart these tides forever raise
A joy that erases every tear I have cried
The sea speaks of a power beyond that of man
A reminder that all things are part of God's plan
Dark night cool waters beckons love come forth
As its lapping echos from shore to shore
Drawing waves kiss the sand and beg for more
Come, come love, listen intently thenceforth
Black waters viewed 'pon a cloudy blue night
Seagulls, pelicans have flown away home
Oceans waves offer up varied honeycomb
Lovers have kissed again and taken flight
The heart of the sea offers its repose
Enticing addulation 'pon the waves
Short visit somehow many hearts enslaves
Calling come as waves stir evening primrose
The heart of the sea beckons juxtapose
Melancoly spirit's thoughts now oppose
Sponsor: Poetess Darkly
Contest: Heart Of The Sea
Written October 13, 2013
My love departs whence the waves tumble
to and fro o’er timeless grains of sand.
Mottled depths of sea drown out restless rumble
as fallen tears slip through my trembling hands.
Say my name, enchanting moon of lore.
I shall not fault you lest my love return.
Beckon tides to well and light restore.
Grant me this before my heart doth spurn.
Full moon cast reflections bittersweet
‘til sunrise blanches all my thoughts of yore.
If I fall prey to waking dawn’s deceit,
Please rise anew to carry love ashore.
Waiting heart shan’t drown in moonlit tide.
In raging surge, for love I shall abide.
For POETESS DARKLY's Blame it on the Moon Contest
I’m wed to moon, a motif for romance.
A god, my grace by poets oft is sung.
Yet some who voyage my expanse by chance
into the briny depths of me are flung
by tempests or by quakes! I do not save
unfortunates. I reign but give free will.
Chained chattel cruelly cast into a grave
by tyrants - lie submerged within me still.
When *Kraken drags his victims ‘neath my skin,
like God above, I rarely interfere
but brim with salty tears for all that’s sin.
Now hold this token seashell near your ear. . .
beneath the echo of an endless swell,
hear souls whose grief one God alone can quell.
*Kraken is a mythical monster of the sea
Written by Andrea Dietrich
Motif is Nature, #7, but also a flavor of Gothic
For the "Impress Me" Contest of Giorgio V.
Soft seas beheld the ebb of evening’s dance
Arousing waves upon a satin shore
Resounding reassurances for more
Soft seas awaiting soulful lover’s glance
An endless tide of passion to explore
And time to drift amidst life’s vast expanse
While holding hands brings comfort still to chance
Soft seas awaiting lovers to restore
When set upon by minions of the storm
Soft seas will raise you high above the ground
When songs of sirens beckon to conform
Soft seas will whisper something more profound
When lovers’ sighs transform the cold to warm
Soft seas awaiting somewhere to be found
How does one know, they're on the right path?
We all take our chances, let fate do the math.
Understanding is key, when things don't seem right.
I know I will see, someday see the light.
Positive I am, no matter what happens.
Sometimes I still cry, could you pass me a napkin?
Nothing is perfect, no, it never will be.
Life is unpredictable, compare life to the sea.
Sometimes it is calm, and other times so rough.
Stay afloat, get over it, swim under it, suck it up!
A weight bound tight inside of her prison,
Does no man acquire the strength that's due?
She sinks down deep as high tide has risen,
As her figure's swallowed by darkest blue
Resignating, do her lungs open so,
Oh, how she opens the gate to her death;
Crushed by the pressure, she rocks to and fro',
Not even with closure of one last breath
The waves crash above and smother below,
It was the blackest of waters she'd known;
Suddenly, pressure was letting her go,
And the most loveliest light was then shown
A pair of hands came for me, cold and wet;
Eyes upon me, and but a lovers set.
That morning on the beach, where did we go?
That June, before the current swept away
That thin island between the sea and bay,
Where did we walk, the risen sun still low?
Before the current swept away the land
And me along with it, where did we stride?
Next to the sea, the waxing, waning tide
Whose rhythmic jaws consumed the footprint sand?
We went nowhere that morning on the sand.
I stood and let the icy waves beat me
And hoped that they would pull me out to sea,
Far from this disappearing island.
Back then, I thought the sea would set me free,
But all it did was make a memory.
There's a westerly wind that sweeps down the shore
Riding roughshod, through the furrowed maze
Plowing the seas with a lofty oar
To justify each thrashing wave
Unwilling to pulse with calmer mood
Her temperament bodes malcontent
Unrelentingly, earnest, she herds her brood
And prods them along with grave torment
Rendering helpless, behind the spray
The sun watches with solemn round
While quivering waters define dismay
She holds long the seasonal sound
From the sphere of the dawn, into bold afternoon
She is schooled by the whims of the moon
9/15/13 For Poetess Darkly's Contest: "Sonnets of the Wind"
Fast river on my thighs, an act of god.
The soft silvery arc of the sun caught line,
the swish and the wish of the long fly rod,
the singing of the line and the reels whine
and whipping back, line stripped off and out.
Line tightening strike! Straight as an arrow
from the bow of the rod to the Sea Trout
The fisher fights footing in the shallows.
And yet, as he struggles to win the match
the fish fights for life. Where does my heart lie?
Splash, sudden slack. Freedom! No more the catch.
Coffee cool in my tight right hand, I sigh.
And an untouched sandwich in my left hand
with fresh cucumber and salmon, canned.
Mountains are immovable, defeating
Except when worn by a mustard seed faith.
Your love for me is transient, fleeting
Gone so quickly, it is more like a wraith.
You have too much love, like Henry the Eighth;
There's ennui in your arms; death in your gaze.
And she may be new, but you can't have baith.
I believe this is only a phase.
Then, you stroke her hair; wake me from this daze.
You are not a mountain, you are the sea,
Ocean waves that drown in a nightmare haze.
You could not be worn; you're water eroded me.
And though you killed me, I crawled from my grave
Saw you're a rip tide; you don't love, you lave.
The thought came to her seeing how the spring
Thaw was here with green patches of onion,
And few areas of spring grasses__now green
That the garden would need tending~ attention
And send her forth (into the sun) to plant
Vegetables, herbs, tend flowers of the hour
Roses, beauties, burgundy, soft brillant
Petals gentle between fingers, power
Scent that allures both man, woman to come
Enjoy this day in this pleasant garden
That draws butterflies, which lightly touch some
Drinks nectar, touches pollen, beholden
Spring with its beauty, warmth, outdoor pleasures
Can disregard work when one sees treasures.
Sponsor:What's In Your Garden? Old Or New
Meter: Iambic Pentameter
Written by: Sara Kendrick
Atop the seas where mists descend and waves high meet
the flare of stars, that draw details where verses hang
and send enounced spring's sightly messages to greet
the Oxford skies of notte blue and eyes unsung,
splendiferous the ocean moons illuminate
above the passages of ships that mettlesome
advance beyond the skylines and scopes equate
multi-dimensional expand with diesels' thrum.
The nautilus become gray shades - in haze to wave
and colorful their messages on winds shall die
it is their voice in nimbus gray to fade and crave
the dancing layers of cold rains and winds' war cry.
Above the fields and seaward trips of compassed routes
on skyway paths the thoughts ascend and Oxford blues. .
© 05-10-2013, G. V., All Rights Reserved
(A hexameter sonnet)
As tides roll in, persuaded by the moon
Your heart directs my journey to love’s shore
Harmonic lunar altitudes attune
And swirling waves join souls forevermore.
Amidst this cycle one thing I must mend:
As all too soon the sea recedes again.
My love lies weakened, distant at shore’s end
Until assured by pledge that you’ll remain.
But how am I to overcome this force
And stay steadfast, not washed away by tides?
I beg you ne’er allow me to change course
‘Til arms entwined adjoin where love resides.
So when the sea recedes then rejoins land
Our hearts will ne‘er subside; ’gainst tides we’ll stand.
I pray thee,
Bid me to stay.
Let me not leave thee,
Bid me to stay.
What am I desides thee?
You are my all in all.
Nevertheless I draw me away from thee.
I thirst to drink from your well.
Call to my mind that
Soon the sea shall touch the sky.
Call to my mind that
I longed to walk on the sky.
Put in my mind the joy you bring!
Put to my mind that
Where the sea touches the sky is your being!
I shant miss that.
I pray thee,
Bid me to stay.
Let me not leave thee,
Bid me to stay.
Aunt Eva was the “character” in our family tree
As a swimming teacher she had a great love for the sea
One summer day she was swimming nearly a mile offshore
When she heard something she had never encountered before
An angel’s voice told her, “Go back,” but this she did not heed
Then she felt a bump; something did not want her to succeed
‘Twas nothing but a playful dolphin that came into view
She continued swimming on, bidding the dolphin adieu
Suddenly she was surrounded by dolphins aplenty
When she heard the angel’s voice again, she surveyed the sea
A school of huge, man-eating bull sharks was headed her way
She started swimming rapidly, made it to shore that day
Although Aunt Eva was not one who would frequently pray
She thanked the angel and dolphins for steering her away
*For Gail’s “Touched by an Angel” contest
by Carolyn Devonshire, written March 17, 2012
True Story about my late Aunt Eva