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Long Ocean Poems | Long Ocean Poetry

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Long Poems
Long poem by Terry O'Leary | Details |

The Stone

The Tale below was carved one night,
Upon the Stone, by candlelight
...most won’t believe, but some just might
.........most won’t believe, but some just might

.                         Preface

Well James made Beth his lovely bride
(And angels smiled, though teary eyed)
...their bodies bound, their spirits tied
.........their bodies bound, their spirits tied

Upon her hand, a shimmer shone,
As bright as blood, a ruby Stone 
...and brighter still, as love had grown
.........and brighter still, as love had grown

Soon James was sent to man a sail
So Beth removed her wedding veil
...her eyes were bright, her face was pale
.........her eyes were bright, her face was pale

“Well, I’ll be here when you return”
Said Beth to James, who kissed in turn
...a kiss that made her body burn
.........a kiss that made her body burn

.                         BETH’S TALE

1.              The Dream
One night, within a dream deformed,
The cawing of a Crow informed
“...a Ship was stripped where winter stormed
.........a Ship was stripped where winter stormed

Midst winds and waves the thunder boomed
The Ship of Death was surely doomed
...the sea engulfed, the sea entombed
.........the sea engulfed, the sea entombed

Your James... denied by Davy Jones!
His spirit gone, his flesh and bones
...are resting now amongst the Stones
.........are resting now amongst the Stones”

2.               The Quest

Awoken by the ebon Wight
And beckoned by the baneful bight
...I left before the morning light
.........I left before the morning light

Throughout the realm I rode a roan
Until, in time, I reached the Stone
...where shades and dreams in darkness groan 
.........where shades and dreams in darkness groan 

While skipping up and down the sky
A missing moonbeam mocked my eye
...enough to make a Swallow cry
.........enough to make a Swallow cry

For someone stole a star or two
And something else that fate withdrew – jewel of joy, my James Bijou jewel of joy, my James Bijou

The shadows of the evening swelled
Where demons of the dusk had dwelled
...and in the far, a vesper knelled
.........and in the far, a vesper knelled

The Stone, beneath the sky, stood cold –
Between the runes, a vapour strolled
...a cloak of fleecy fog consoled
.........a cloak of fleecy fog consoled

A Raven on a branch, enthroned,
Her wings waved once, a wail intoned
...beyond the bay, a banshee moaned
.........beyond the bay, a banshee moaned

I lay beside the Stone, his bride
I lay beside the Stone and cried
...but were it I, instead, that died
.........but were it I, instead, that died

The rainbow of the moon fell dim
A midnight Swan soon ceased to swim if to hide all hint of him if to hide all hint of him

Between the willows in the swale
There sang a Bird, a Nightingale
...which left me faint and feeling frail
.........which left me faint and feeling frail

3.              Contact

I felt him breathe within a breeze
Responding to my anguished pleas
...and leaves blew by abandoned trees
.........and leaves blew by abandoned trees

“I miss you too, my darling Beth”
Re-echoed from the Ship of Death
...the future buried in a breath
.........the future buried in a breath
The Stone lit up a ruby sheen
And clouds were kindled crystalline
...with consequences, unforeseen
.........with consequences, unforeseen

Above, the wretched Raven soared
To where the Ship of Death lay moored
...beneath, the icy ocean roared
.........beneath, the icy ocean roared

4.               Release

I’m joined with James beneath the Stone,
Though to the Ship my spirit’s flown,
...for nevermore to be alone
.........for nevermore to be alone

.                         Epilogue

That night the wayward winds were weird 
The Ship of Death had disappeared
...coyotes called and mortals feared
.........coyotes called and mortals feared

At dusk, the craven shadows crawled
At dawn, the winds of mourning called
...upon the Stone two names were scrawled
.........upon the Stone two names were scrawled

The Raven sits, with wings outspread,
Atop the Stone which shades the dead sometimes shimmers ruby red sometimes shimmers ruby red

.                         Epitaph

Between the sounds, where silence seeps,
Their love lives on and never sleeps
...and yet, the weeping willow weeps
.........and yet, the weeping willow weeps

inspired by ~fc~

Wight (obsolete): a supernatural being, creature
Bight: a bay or gulf
Swale: a moist depression in a tract of land

Copyright © Terry O'Leary

Long poem by Richard Lamoureux | Details |

A Man and the Moon Prose Version

Sebastian looked at the moon, the source of his inspiration. When the Moon appeared in its silvery glory, he was profoundly moved to write. Sadly he could only write during a full moon. This was a problem which perplexed him. He had waited many days for the full Moon to appear so that he could put his plan into action.

When Sebastian would write a poem during the full Moon his readers would be moved to tears. His prose had wooed many a young heart, his songs had been sung to princesses. Countless women had named their children in honor of him. His words were distilled romance with power beyond the comprehension of ordinary men. The problem however was that Sebastian was unable to meet the demand. Strong men would beg for but a few lines to capture their true loves heart. Without the Moon, when Sebastian would try to write it felt like his tongue was wrapped around his hand. Nothing flowed little made sense, he was like an inexperienced teen unfamiliar with the ways of love. How Sebastian longed for the Moon during those long nights.

So here he was with his enchanted pen in hand, at the end of the pen was a golden strand. Sebastian went out to capture the Moon. He swung the pen in large loops over his head releasing it with tremendous force. The pen hurtled towards its target the tip of the fountain pen struck the centre of the Moon sinking deep into its surface. Sebastian pulled with all his might each movement of his hand brought his prize closer and closer. As the moon came closer there was no evidence it was increasing in size. Once the moon was in hand it fit perfectly in his pocket. Sebastian felt gleeful as he carried the Moon into his home, everything was going according to his plan.

Once inside he removed the Moon from his pocket and bathed in it's other worldly light. As Sebastian dislodged his pen from the surface it began to drip with the Moon's tears. Magnificent lines beyond anything he had ever hoped. Songs, poems, prose, the mysteries of the ages flowing onto his pages day after day year after year. His home overflowed with his treasures, the realization of his poetic dreams.

Still he had no joy, no one knocked on his door. Lovers could not walk in the Moonlight, wolves couldn't bay at the Moon. Romance was no longer in the air. The night was a thing to be feared. Sailors could not find their ways home, if they did their lovers no longer waited for their return. Some refer to this as the Dark Ages. Art creativity had all but dissapeared. The Oceans stood still with no Moon to guide the tides. Meanwhile Sebastian continued to write.

The Moon asked to see the Ocean so Sebastian took it for a walk. As they walked along a lonely secluded beach the Moon began to increase in size. The Moon summoned the Ocean to it's rescue. A huge wave came up on shore plucking the moon from Sebastian's hand. As the Moon was floating out to Sea Sebastian swam out to reclaim his treasure. Sebastian jumped on the Moon as a gigantic hand like wave tossed the Moon back into space. As the moon traveled back to its home it became larger and larger brightening the nights sky. Lovers came out to kiss captivated by the silvery glow.  If they look close they can see a man with a fountain pen held in his hand. Wolves cry for him as they bay at the moon.

On the Moon Sebastian sits all alone with his fountain pen in hand, he fills the pen with his tears. He longs to write the words trapped in his heart yet there is not a page in site. Even if there was there is no one to read his words or to sing his songs. The Moon was once his Muse and then his greatest prize. Now it is his prison for the rest of time.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux

Long poem by Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Details |

Workshop Poem - Winds Forgive

Turning my back on typhoon skies, 
a pestilent past, I pitch my mistakes 
into a forgiving wind. Standing barefoot 
at the edge of apologies, 
coastal tides carry hope, tomorrows stir
on a mariner’s horizon. I search 
seafaring eyes to discover God waving heartily,   
welcome home…

Turning my back on a turbulent past, 
silence falls in waves…faces, that once stared
with confusion share smiles. I had mistaken
their curiosity for condemnation…faltering, 
teetering, capsized by my own insecurity, I see...
time changes perceptions – we can grow, rise.
I sing out greetings to this abundance;
a forgiving wind, God’s instrument, 
blows through my soul.
I worship in full afternoon sun;
riding waves of mid-life, 
I see you amid 
rhythmic seas,
                    sultry sunsets, 
sloping skies, 
                    sandy relics,
distant mountain peaks,
               depths of ocean caverns; 
when I hear a baby’s first cry or wise words 
of the aged to loved-ones near...
I remember your mercy;
when I hear the break of waves over
my own waking shores and welcome 
every birth of earth and sea…
I remember your mercy.

Turning my back on a past, shredded into wisps 
of yesterday’s despair, I rest
in innocence, where I am, 
where I was born…never looking back.
Breath of Life shares resonating beauty 
and carries my darkest regrets 
into Heaven’s forgiving winds;
I have prayed for this. 

Your love blankets tranquil dreams in sleep 
from night sky’s silvery arc of crescent moon.
Your love transforms my gifted day’s design
from beads of golden sun showers awaiting June.   

Your love awakens my soul, a gust of penetrating warmth.
Your love beats with mine, and I am changed…forever changed.

After advice from Cyndi, Debbie and Frederic:

Turning my back on typhoon skies, 
a pestilent past, I pitch my mistakes 
into windy seas on a quest for forgiveness; 
I plant bare feet at the edge
of apologies. Coastal tides 
roil in hope, tomorrows smooth out
a mariner’s horizon. I float in seafaring
eyes to discover God waving heartily,   
welcome home.

Turning my back on a turbulent past, 
silence falls in waves…I mold clay faces;
they once stared with confusion, smiles
posed too long. I had mistaken curiosity 
for condemnation. My body trembles. 
I falter, teeter, capsized by my own insecurity; 
Then, I blink and time changes
perception. I grasp sunshine till I beam. 
A golden wave, I taste salt air  
and greet abundant light;
a strong wind cleanses me. 
God’s soulful instrument blows free.
I worship in full afternoon sun;
riding waves of mid-life, 
I see you amid 
rhythmic seas,
                    sultry sunsets, 
a slope of sky, 
                    sandy relics,
mountain peaks high,
               depths of ocean caverns; 

when I hear a baby’s first cry or wise words 
of the aged to loved-ones near,
I remember your mercy;

when I hear the break of waves over
my own waking shores and welcome 
every birth of earth and sea,
I remember your mercy.

Turning my back, I shred gray paper
into confetti of yesterday’s despair; I rest
in innocence, where I am, 
where I was born, I never look back.
My Creator’s breath shares resonating beauty 
and carries my darkest regrets. 
Heaven’s winds forgive;

Your love blankets dreams 
in the silvered arc of moon,
your love redesigns my days untold
with summer sun showers, beads of gold. 

Your love awakens my soul, winds 
flood with warmth. Your love beats within, 
and I am changed, forever changed.

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

Long poem by Isaiah Zerbst | Details |

A Well-Known Stranger

'Twas a sound I thought alarming, most assuredly disarming;
Up I rose from peaceful slumber to discern what it might be.
While my candle flickered, wavered; whilst my heartbeat halted, quavered,
At my window I was favoured by it sounding, dreadfully-
In the darkness loudly pounding- drawing nearer, dreadfully
As if calling out to me.

When the window I unshuttered, as my heart so wildly fluttered
Sounded forth the sound, and nearer, sounded forth so dismally:
And I heard the tempest sighing, through the trees and chimneys crying,
As if left alone and dying by some God-forsaken sea-
Quite forsaken, quite abandoned by the inky, lifeless sea,
Just as black as black can be.

There I stood a moment longer as the wailing winds grew stronger.
'Tis, I thought, but silly fancies dreamed imaginatively;
For there's nothing coming, leaving, and the night can be deceiving;
Yes, the wind was only breathing on the ancient maple tree,
Which was rapping on the shutters in the night, incessantly-
This was all that it could be.

Then a furious arctic guster gathered might and main and muster
And with hands so cold and clammy put my candle out while he
Wrapped his chilling hands around me, in his frozen grip he bound me;
I, his presence all around me groaned and grumbled in the dark;
As I groped and griped and stumbled, groaned and grumbled in the dark-
While he laughed so wickedly.

To the window, pitter-patter, I rehasped it with a clatter
Then relit and watched my candle as it flamed assuredly,
While it lit the old surroundings; but then how my heart was pounding!
As I gazed at the astounding standing on my posted bed,
Perched above the feathered pillows where I rest my weary head,
Perched there unashamedly.

"Ah," said I, "this nameless flutter sounding, pounding on the shutter
It was only this dear fellow trying so determinedly
To gain entrance to my dwelling, all to bring this piece of spelling,
And there really is no telling who has sent him here to me
'Till I read the little letter fastened on below his knee,
That he bears so cheerfully.

I undid the purple ribbon tied about the charming pigeon,
Quite forgetful of his presence as I read absorbedly.
I spent little time deciding who had sent this piece of writing,
For it bore me happy tidings in a hand I knew so well;
In a cheerful, laughing manner, so it was not hard to tell
That it was from my Melody.

"My favourite ribbon, I've untied it from my hair and wrapped inside it
All the words I wish to say, but am too far to tell to thee."
From this point and on hereafter I omit her words of laughter,
Words that make my heart beat faster; words that stop it suddenly:
Words that make me melancholy; words that make me shout with glee-
Words sent by my Melody.

When I'd traced each perfect letter, I was thinking clearer, better;
I set out some feed and water for my friend, repentantly.
"Pigeon," said I, "rest beside me; walls and roof shall safely hide thee
From the tempest roaring blindly o'er the inky, lifeless sea."
And I squinted through the shadows where he perched there silently;
Resting, sleeping peacefully.

Drawing near, I kissed him gently, thinking all the while intently
That the very place I kissed him once was cradled tenderly
By the hand I wish was holding onto mine, and deftly molding
Into mine, and mine enfolding, that of her who wrote to me;
That of her so far away across the inky, lifeless sea-
That of dearest Melody.

Entered In Kelly Deschler's Contest, "The Raven"

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst

Long poem by Therese Bacha | Details |

Earth Fire Water Wind

                      A Journey With The Wind.

I had a dream that felt greater than reality, lost on earth
wearing a gown bare feet bleeding leaving behind traces 
for my sons to find me.

My hand was begging reaching out suddenly, a feeling 
I held the wind, yes the wind in the palm of my hand a friend, 
to join me through that journey toward the ocean, knowing it 
will soon fly away, who can hold the wind and make it belong, 
I did.

Wind Oh wind, meet my sons, whisper my name they are the 
ones who care, they will rescue me even blind folded, they will 
smell my bodies odor and sense where I am. 

Oh wind, you are the only one here on this earth I feel your presence, 
fly away now carry a tear place it on their cushion and deliver my 
message to them, I will wait even forever, bring them back to me.

My friend my wind, search for them, find them knock, on their window 
If they are sleeping they will wake up & run towards me follow my blood 
trail find their way to carry me softly & cure my scars wipe away my
tears & fear of drowning alone at the shore.

Suddenly the light faded darkness took over covering the brightness 
away I pledged, mother nature I am not yet ready, sun do not burn 
and light a fire, Oh sun where are you , don't leave me alone, I started humming my babies melody to be heard 
and come to my rescue.

Deprived to see them in the morn for years, deprived to look in their 
eyes, deprived to eat with them, drink with them, deprived to smell their 
perfume, destiny was against me due to the war in our country, for 
years they were always flying away around this earth, to settle.

I felt cold shivering, suddenly the warmth of my children's breath 
around gave me the strength I needed, Wind! my friend! you 
found them and carried them across the ocean,Oh, the look into 
each others eyes cannot be describe, for the first time I felt they 
were real we fixed for seconds but a whole book can be created 
through the emotions and communications that occurred during 
those precious moments, 
a language of its own.

The echoing of their voices was heard, what can we say mum except 
we love you for being there when we needed you,we love you because 
of who you are, we love you because you care, we love you for not sinking 
during our absence because we needed you on the shore, together listen
to nature`s beauty, birds twittering, fish whispering, 
waves dancing & splashing.

We love you because you find life in everything you touch, and if not, 
you blow life into everything, we love you, your breath has kept 
us alive, your breath is as strong as the wind that carried us to you. 
Come on mum, it was a long journey with the wind on this earth 
for all of us, lets go home, together. 

 Contest,Earth Fire Water Wind for Debbie Guzzi   (WIN Honorable Mention) Therese Bacha

Copyright © Therese Bacha

Long poem by J. W. Earnings | Details |

Glisten in the Moonlight

Your glorious emerald eyes 
Glisten in the moonlight 
Glisten in the moonlight 
Delight dances in the water
I watch it joyfully
You are set free from the cage...
You're like a dove soaring in the sky
You are the rain...
drizzling down in ecstasy 
A hint of ecstasy is shown in your reflection...
When you caress me... I'm relieved... 
From the stress that forced me in chains
I knew we'd be on the brighter side of tomorrow 
We're glistening in the moonlight 
I knew we'd become candles in the heavens above us
We're glistening in the moonlight
For a moment, I felt your presence...your radiant with sympathy 
I saw at first glance the dark side of you
Tonight, we'll be together and fly through the horizon 
We'll watch the sunset say its last goodbye...
We'll wave a greeting at the moon! 
We glisten in the moonlight...
What if I was as handsome as the lion...
Roaring with pride and pure courage
What if we were glistening in the moonlight?
Would it bring health to our bones tonight?
Would it make our heart rejoice and overflow with delight?
Would we be able to survive this horrifying plight?
Would we be shimmering like a candlelight?
We're glistening in the moonlight... (6)
Ohh...yeah...ooh yeah...ooh yeahh...
We reach to the stars and hope we can trace a shooting star
I feel the coolness run down my fingers...
We're glistening in the moonlight
You're the dandelions in the fields
You're the gorgeous view that I marvel at everyday
When you kiss me, I live my dreams
We glisten in the moonlight
In a quick moment, I sense a feeling of endless renewal 
I roam inside of your illuminating maze 
Glow on... sunshine... 
Glow on...sunshine...
Glisten in the moonlight...
Listen to the truth and rub it in
You are ravishing like the sunset
But you're ascending while I'm descending
I feel extremely guilty
I wish I could glisten with you in the moonlight
You're glistening in the moonlight (6) 
Ohhh yeahh... oohhh yeahh... ohh yeahh
You're glistening in the moonlight (4)
We go our own way
I wish we can glisten like the moon
Glisten like the sun 
There's a dream concealed inside of me...
Reveal your light and pour it upon me
You glisten in the appealing moonlight
While I'm subsiding... you're fulfilling your dreams
Of gliding across the horizon 
You're independence... keeps on scorching with satisfaction
While I'm below you... 
Your emerald green eyes
Stared me down like a hawk...
Your emerald eyes
Gaze down at me genuinely...
I wish we could flee together in reality...
That could be a possibility
To glisten in the moonlight in glee
We were glistening in the moonlight (3)
But that was only a dream...
I'll pray that it turns into a reality
We were glistening in the moonlight 
Now, I've misplaced my delight...
Will I ever experience such a brilliant night?

Copyright © J. W. Earnings

Long poem by rene Chabriere | Details |

It's too early in the gray sky - from french

No one in this morning
The road is deserted,
It's too early under the gray sky,

The veins of my hands,
Salient hands on the wheel
The look Elevated

The white line scrolls,
The colored houses, fled,
Since the curves crossed,

Creeks glimpsed,
The white studs punctuate
the road, pedal to the floor,,

Not any  possible gesture
Just those, tiny,
Extending the machine

According to the gray ribbon
Powered by the wheels

Swallowing the consistency,
of traffic signs,
blurred by speed,

The craft carried by his power,
Shares my drunkenness ...

Almost brought a strength,
Internal and autonomous

The motor flexibility
It shiny metal body,
Discreet comfort inside ...

And suddenly ,this is
At the end of the turn,
This dog,

As an immobile sphinx,
His unexpected question,

The deflected trajectory,
Gravel under the tires,

The crazy slide,
Nothing controls it

Falling universe 
A jump above the parapet,
A single flight without return

Net stopped by an heavy shock
Cons below ...

A brief moment, I remember ,
The covering  waves,
Ebbing, breaking,

Again and again,
Distributing its foam
On the rocks ...

No one in this morning
The road is still deserted
It's too early in the gray sky.


Personne en ce matin,
La route est déserte,
Trop tôt sous le ciel gris,

Les veines de mes mains,
Saillantes,  mes mains sur le volant,
Le regard en plongée,

La ligne blanche qui défile,
Les maisons de couleur, enfuies,
Dès les courbes  franchies, 

Les criques entr'aperçues,
Les poteaux blancs rythment
le trajet, pédale au plancher,,

Plus de geste possible,
Que ceux, infimes,
Prolongeant la machine,

Suivant le ruban gris,
Propulsé sous les roues

Avalant la consistance,
des panneaux  de signalisation,
floutés par la vitesse,

L'engin porté par sa puissance,
Partageant l'ivresse...

Presque porté d'une force,
Interne et autonome,

Moteur en souplesse,
Carosserie brillante,
Confort intérieur discret ...

Et c'est  là soudain,
Au sortir du virage,
Qu'il y a ce chien,

Comme  un sphinx immobile,
Sa question imprévue,

La trajectoire  déviée,
Les gravillons sous les pneus,

La glissade folle,
Que rien ne contrôle,

L'univers qui bascule,
Le bond au-dessus  du parapet,
Un vol sans retour,

Stoppé net par le lourd choc,
En contre-bas...

Je revois un bref instant,
Les vagues les recouvrant,
Refluant, se brisant,

Encore et encore,
Distribuant son écume
Sur les rochers...

Personne en ce matin,
La route est encore déserte,
Il est trop tôt sous le ciel gris.


RC - mai  2014

Copyright © rene Chabriere

Long poem by Earl Schumacker | Details |

What Ocean

            What Ocean

Oceans rise because they have to leave now
What goes up stays up as a matter of science
This planet soon will be all consumed in dryness
Giant columns of water are in a rage to go
They look normal crashing on the shore and rocks
A force stronger than nature lifts them up and through

Seas once crept up to claim the shore
Their world became defined in liquid blue
Clinging to rocks, sweeping the sands
Taking time to reclaim the land
After all, oceans occupied most of the world
Filled in what ground could not                                                                        

But when they rise above the buildings and the mountains
Soon, life as we know it, must disappear                     
Something must be up for all oceans to simply go nowhere

It takes only seconds for waves to become air born
Taking lakes, rivers, rains, leaving landscapes torn
Billions upon billions of gallons rise higher than known tides
Every drop of water on the Earth absorbed into the void
Exits through the atmosphere, to another place

More than the liquid blue it is, what we are used to, is through
Our lives and meanings are being torn in two
The blue marble has turned from blue to brown
Earth is one big desert now alone among the rocks
With not one drop of water left 

Land does not understand or care what happened here
As it takes shape to redefine
Surface world fills in with solids, objects and moving things of beauty
Temporary things like trees and flowers shining about the obscene matter
Water is no longer there to fill their needs and soon they perish

Rocks, hills and mountains reveal the cracks and show so vivid now
Displace oceans at a time, over time, rising to reclaim their own
Molten lava will burn and etch 
Air and wind have always been there too

Seas rolled out into the black of outer space
No one has a clue but wonder why
Only waves and water rise to the occasion of existence
Laws of science and nature fade away
Fly out there with no resistance with oceans bold against the cold unknown
Everything else is fictitious driven by nothing but surprise at what is missing

Mountains held back a flood of tears one time
There is nothing left to mourn for, after seas demise  
Impossible to shout or cry with no oceans wet
But who can forget the rolling foaming mammoths
Seas even took the last rain drops with them when they left
It is all too deep and blue to fathom
We wish them well and happy splashdowns on other planets

Copyright © Earl Schumacker

Long poem by Seth Yuhi Musinga | Details |


Drink the Namibia Countryside 

Namibia a West African country, on the Atlantic coast
Namibia’s beauty is wonderfully surreal and alluring,
With endless savannah and bushland 
With most stunning landscapes in Africa, 
with acres of ocean shores, woodland savannas,
With game-rich grasslands and a semi-arid Central Plateau
lonely desert roads where mighty slabs of granite rise out of swirling desert sands
Land of swirling apricot dunes and shimmering white flats, mirages and dust devils,
With large expanses of arid and semi-arid land

Namibia`s young population is ambitious and ready to forge ahead 
With highest literacy rates and one of the most stable democracies
Friendly, natural people with 14 ethnic groups, 26 different languages 
two million people share the vast spaces of Namibia
With rich heritage and traditions

Namibia `s desert landscapes, volcanic mountains, desolate salt pans, giant sand dunes
Namib Desert is one of the oldest deserts in the world
Dunes are incredible, and are the tallest dunes in the world;
Amazing landscapes of red sand dunes, fascinating rock formations, vast plains, bizarre coastal dunes,
Bleached whalebones and ancient shipwrecks
organ pipes are a unique series of quartz-dolerite pillars
With lush floodplains and picturesque deserts.

Namibia mighty gash in the earth at Fish River Canyon
plankton-rich coastal waters support an extraordinary array of marine life
Tenderness fetching flora and fauna.
Long the Namibian coast lays the Namib Desert,
A spectacularly barren, brilliant red sand landscape 
Divided into the Skeleton Coast and the Diamond Coast 
Most famously, it is the richest source of diamonds on the planet, 
The coast, with its productive fishing grounds and the deep water harbor 

Namibia an amazingly diverse animal world,
The wildlife utopia of Etosha National Park.
One of the world's greatest wildlife-viewing spots
Offers an exceptional range and abundance of wildlife. 
Boasts the largest free-roaming population of black rhino in Africa, 
and the largest cheetah population in the world.
Black-faced impala and crimson-breasted shrike.
Remote, wild and astonishingly beautiful with cascading Granite Mountains, amazing azure skies

Namibia with a wide variety of rock paintings and rock engravings
With a technicolor dreamscape, 
World’s most captivating desert regions, 

Namibia biota is rich, by global standards, and relatively well-preserved
containing both karroid and tropical elements

Copyright © Seth Yuhi Musinga

Long poem by Richard Lamoureux | Details |

A Man and the Moon Free Verse version

Writer of romance
Oh how the women swoon
Opening wide to their lovers
Children named in his honor
Strong men beg for but a few of his words
They wish to be carried to bliss in their lovers arms

The full Moon
Sebastians single muse
All other times devoid of inspiration
No power flows from his enchanted pen
Long nights waiting for his muse to arrive
Torture for his inarticulate soul
Yet his mind hatches a plan

Finally the night arrives
Moon in silvery glory
Enchanted pen, golden cord
Looping over his head
Hurled into space
Will it reach it's target?
Too the centre of the moon
Striking with force 
The Moon cries out in pain

Sebastian reels in his prize
Hand over hand
The Moon shrinks with each progressive pull
Pocket filled with moonlight
taken home
Sheltered from others eyes
coveted glow for him alone
Bathed in Moonlight
Power courses through his veins
No end to inspiration
Moon's tears released by his pen
Flowing to his page
Days to hours
Hours become years
Yet no one comes to read

The lovers have all disappeared
No Moonlit kisses
or walking beneath a moonbeamed sky
Wolves no longer bay at the Moon
The night is now a time to be feared
Sailors unable to find their way home
The guiding tides no longer exist 
Some find their way through the dark void
Still there are no lovers to await their return

The world has entered the dark ages
Singers have lost their desire to sing
Artists have hidden their brushes 
Where have all the poets gone?
yet Sebastian continues to write

The Moon begs to see the Ocean
Sebastian places it in his hand
He walks along a silent shore
Ocean! please heed the Moon's call
Come to her rescue
Snatch her from Sebastian's hand
Thankfully the ocean hears her call
In an instant the Moon floats on the Sea
Resurgent waves carry it away 
Increasing in size the Moon revitalized
Sebastian swimming to recover prize
Grabbing on with all his might as the Ocean forms a mighty hand
Hurtling the moon into space

Lovers emerge
Romance is in the air
Passions are realized
They look to the sky in wonder
Why had the moon abandoned their call?
They listen to the voice of the waves crash upon the shore
The Moon never wished to leave the sky
Singers once again sing their songs of love
Artists are inspired by the Moon's glow

Look at their painting you will see
A man on the moon
With golden pen in hand
unable to write
His pages are far away

If you havn't read the prose version have a look. 
I hope you enjoy my little tale.

Entry for Free Verse Time Again Contest

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux

Long Poems