Best Bathers Poems
Put on his red bathers you're joking
Too tight something out front it was poking
found another old pair
to cover up pubic hair
He's now off to the ocean for soaking
Now he's looking quite bronze and quite fancy
Ready to meet his girlfriend who's called Nancy
on the sand they will walk
hold hands while they talk
One day she might be his fiancee
Find a spot that's private and shady
to skinny dip with his beautiful lady
several others have come
they see his lily white bum
His girl's given surname it's O'grady
From ocean water body's cool, appetisingly salty
Sun burnt skin's feeling sore and quite faulty
He wants to bonk on the shore
She says no that's for sure
He says your excuse is unloving and paltry
His ex girlfriends name was Cecelia
Too often he wanted to feel her
with legs very bandy
he was often so randy
In the sun in in the hay made love to this sheila
Now this oversexed man so begotten
So naughty they smacked his big bottom
but he wasn't deterred
still did what he preferred
Loved underwear made out of soft cotton
Now it's summer he's feeling quite warm
Many old tricks he does often perform
out in his work shed
there's a double sized bed
Where they shed all the clothes that are worn
It's now time for a warm summer party
Can attend it's casual not arty farty
still daylight at nine
have a whopping good time
Good conversation and laughter that's hearty
Happiness is heaven, ecstasy gratifying
Sensual and satisfaction zest and delight.
I am quite confident; it comes all the year round.
It comes in the springtime when new buds appear
And nature's perfume fecundates the parks.
The season is warmer and children can play,
Listen to them, it’s laughter all the way.
It comes in summer, with hot and humid days,
We lie near each other savoring our ways.
The sea is calm and bathers can enjoy
Both a refreshing swim or some cold lollipops.
It comes in autumn with air that's so crisp
As the first snowflakes bring down the red dry leaves.
Thanksgiving is organized, a sumptuous feast.
Tilled harvested fields prepared as the chill is a beast.
But wet windy winter comes cold and hoary days
Snowfalls cover the roads and all stay snug in homes,
Everywhere fireplaces radiate warmth and shelter,
For many people think that happiness is not far away.
And so, as the year draws to a miserable end,
Let’s open a bubbly, and happy greetings send.
From a list made long ago
I’ve kicked my bucket many times
Yet, I’m still alive
Night’s impetuous canvas
Memories painted in broad strokes
Bold images color my dreams
First a brisk zip line
Snow flurries gathering on my nose
New Hampshire’s White Mountains
Majestic, tranquil setting
Gliding in a sail plane over Tallahassee
No engine; jolting air currents
Finding relief in a smooth landing
Indoor sky diving in New England
Exhilarating, feeling like a super hero
Smile never left my face
Parasailing over the Gulf of Mexico
Peering below to see sharks near bathers
Calling out to warn them
Catching a 50-pound Goliath Grouper
Endangered specie
Set free to live another day
Only one item left on my list
Traveling abroad
Seeing the castle that bears my name
Waiting for the pandemic to end
I tell my Maker
“I’m ready when You are”
Life feels nearly complete
What a joyful ride!
November 9, 2020
For Chantelle’s “What Have You Kicked Off Your Bucket List?” Contest
The sky and sea intermingled as a mist evolved.
Soon a moon appeared surrounded by tiny stars.
From the beach, a whisper of awe arose, all wondered
Onlooking the misty phenomenon of a beauty rarely seen.
Night fell and some bathers rested on the sandy beach.
Could the sky kiss the sea, most wondered musing a lot.
It was a sensation of wonder and mystifying occurrence
Yet finally most lay down into a deep sleep and dreamt.
A summerlike breeze swirled around them prodding dreams.
Most wondered what could one find beyond the horizon.
Many felt that beyond was a void, others dreamt of sunken ships.
But many dreamt of fantastic beings that hovered around.
Soon the sun rose from faraway. Ships sailed placidly
And on the horizon, a cruise ship manoeuvred to far off lands.
Green lush vegetation
of breath-taking beauty
enveloping fertile landscape
in scenic tapestry, while
Radiant sunshine's golden splendor
delightfully kissed sun-bathers
lounging on exotic beaches
or taking invigorating dips in
Exquisite waterfalls crystal clear streams
splashing down in majestic grandeur
from incredible heights, dropping
jaws in awe, as eyes behold
Nature's abundant blessings lavished
upon this tiny child swaddled
in spice-scented napkins
Aspiring, striving, amidst social
and economic hardships
to forge, to reach, and fulfill their
Destiny, guided by faith
perseverance and fierce ancestral courage
As...one People... one Nation.
What weighs down this sandy wisp
between a bay and ocean is not
a causeway, not the press of footed towers,
nor the tread of bare and browning bathers
on its narrow, wet, khaki-colored beaches --
It is the weight of air, cloudless, clear
but heavy air -- blue in the depths --
that arches overhead; and it is the sizzle
of minor surf along the island's edges,
dampening sand, to stick upon the sea
like a licked stamp upon a letter.
The men, roads, and condos all may seem
to wrest control from nature and its weather;
but, we, who've spent some years here,
know better.
Zipping through New Hampshire’s White Mountains
Suspended by a rope through trees
Autumn colors accompany a brisk breeze
Turning your face bright, scarlet red
Don’t look down, just peer ahead
Live joyfully in each challenging activity
“What,” you say, “no engine?”
Sail planes ride wind currents
Regular airplane tows you up
Then you are cut free
To rely on navigational skills
Parasail over turquoise sea
Images below evoke wonder
Tiger Shark approaches bathers
No distress signal sent
Rev the engine
Noisy jet skis
Bound over waves
Bucket list
Now empty
Memories!
*Written October 13, 2014
Summer sand soft and sultry,
Salty sweat, sweet and wet.
Wistless wind, waveless water,
Bathers baking, basking burning
Seagull scavenger of shiny sea
Searching, scurrying squabling over scraps.
Wandering women walk with will
Wondering why weight won’t wither.
Trembling toddlers take tentative steps
Towards towering tidal tempest
Cumulonimbus clouds clearing
Silent sky screaming
Silken sunlight streaming
Doting Dad daydreaming
Beside Every Iridescent Node Grows
Beauty, Eyeing, Instigating, Nodding Gracefully.
Bounty Energizes Inundating Nascent Growth.
Brilliant Emerald Ignites Newborn Grains.
Bathers Each In Nuance Gather.
Beyond Eternity, Infinite Night Gropes.
Beside Emerging Isotopes Nonchalantly Grasping
Bottle-necked Entities In Nature’s Great
Beneficence Engages Ideology's Non-sequitur
Givers.
Bare endings. Idols Neglected Gape.
Basking Ecclesiastic Idiosyncrasies Nascent Glow.
Because Each Idol Names Great
Beauty. Effigies, Itinerant Namesakes, Grin.
Beside Each, I Narcissus' Grow.
being being being being being being being
First Published in Femmewise Cat
"Romance in the Time of Crawling"
We wait in hibernation
for the great release
into a 2nd coming maybe
a 3rd, a 4th, a 5th
it’s a joyful death
the pain on entry
where oceans break
the certainty of all
that is shore
the harbour opens
we sail forward
through bloody waters
into a new territory
the washing machine
cycle, load and dry
the vacuuming of floor
grounded, we are
lustily put to bed
lusciously all wrapt up
in those hot little deaths
stimulus to create
something better
of ourselves
borne again
it’s like looking
into the eyes
of a mirror
for a little while
the distant sound
of seagulls waiting
for their feed
crying loudly
to be fed
milk and honey
in the let down
drawn back in through
tiny sharp succubous lips
adored little vampires
that suck the life out of you
like air to breathe
you hold in your arms,
you hold your breath
for a little sleep,
you no longer sleep
you’d do it
all over again
romance in the time
of crawling
like an infant
crossing the line
learning to let go
the lessons
in the value of repeat
no open casket viewing
high 5 requiem me
Lavendar street
swimming again
diving into the deep end
with bathers at Balmoral
ashes like snow
falling into the ocean
moving against your skin
to live the dream again
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
dimensions.
A long line of waters
Deep in hearts of bathers
A lifeline of growth
Weep of salvation brought forth
Waters of life over a mile
Outrunning a thousand stile
Gifts of life in piles
Surmounting torments of viles
Dreams on waters slate
Streams of sages proliferate
Sun beam of neon flickers
Teeming waters on pickers
Wishers with panoramic views
Dreamer of waters purviews
Like well-wishers throwing coins over heels
Eye-openers on picker wheels
A river full of life
A river lull of strife
Outpouring a thousand mile
Outscoring a thousand smile
On this river of hope
A bigger dream to scope
A kaleidescope of scenery
Grandeur over tapestry
One day the said river dried
No one ever wondered and belied
Gold in pieces on the ground mounted
In the hearts of gold sprouted
Euphrates...
A river
A Caribbean Morn
I watch as the sun comes in gracefully
like the opening of a hibiscus, waiting to bloom.
As the aurora radiates above the trees
black birds flock, blotting the dawning skies;
constantly perched looking out, like soldiers
guarding the never ending shoreline.
Golden rays prance across the rippling deep
as flying fish skim the salty surface.
The tide is low this morn, leaving
sea treasures scattered ashore
like gifts imparted by the unknown.
Giant turtles glide under the ocean's summit,
granting a glimpse of the endangered out there.
Here comes the early sea bathers, the elderly
holding hands wading out in the shallow blue.
Loud din from the fisher-folk rising from afar
Soon boats will launch and calm will return
to the peaceful and tranquil morn, when
I can hear the rustling of the bladed orchestra
swaying to the beat of the cool island breeze.
This is the start of a Caribbean Morn.
****
Written by: Liz Ward
June 30th, 2016
Forever Swansea...
Bright blue skies in the summer sun,
The birds among the trees.
The golden sands of Swansea Bay,
The calmness of the seas.
As I walk along these golden sands,
I watch each breaking wave.
The inshore lifeboat comes along,
But there's no-one here to save.
Hundreds of bathers on the beach,
In the water having fun.
Surfers, men with fishing rods,
All basking in the sun.
Barbecues and fizzy drinks,
Thermos flasks with tea.
Families sat eating lunch,
Just lazing by the sea.
The sounds of laughter fill the air,
Seeing lovers hand in hand.
Walking down to Swansea Docks,
Leaving footprints in the sand.
My memories of years gone by,
Of my walks along the shore.
Such times I hold within my heart,
And I will for ever-more........
You puckered up your lips
You went and cut your Beatle fringe
You squeezed in your bikini
And you trimmed your ginger minge
Your shadow on the beach eclipsed
The bathers on the sa-a-a-a-nd
Oh Tru-u-u-udy! You're out to bag a man
.
She lazes on the beach
Down by the Purple Dolphin Bar
She dribbles down her chin
While ogling hotties from afar
And even though you're thrice the size
You started out to be-e-e-e-
Tru-u-u-udy! You'd have two of him for tea
.
She spies a clueless victim
As his glasses hit the ground
She gaffs him with a tender look
And the sturdy rope she'd found
Though it's not gold nor money
That will cure this Turtle Dove
Oh Tru-u-u-udy! It's just buckets full o' love
.
She straddled him, his legs so thin
Then she began to pout
For it took half the fire brigade
To pull her victim out
Then he began to run as soon
As his feet touched the ground
Now Tru-u-u-udy, he's nowhere to be found
We were off to book our holiday, already we’d had words,
‘Don’t think you’re spending all the week admiring dolly-birds!’
My fella laughed out loud and said ‘Just stop your flamin' hopping,
there’s absolutely no harm in a bit of window shopping’
Sitting at the agents, we studied every last location,
we wanted something perfect for our annual vacation.
Somewhere nice and lively? Or a place of tranquil quiet?
‘The second one I think, I’ll never sleep if there’s a riot.’
We chose our destination after much deep thought and care
My fella teased ‘Can’t wait to see the bathing beauties there’
We got there and the sun was hot, time to hit the pool,
he was changed already, he began, in fact, to drool.
We weren’t prepared, however, for the sight that met our eyes,
and I couldn’t help but chuckle as I heard my fella’s cries…
‘Who chose this place? It’s never right for thirty-something men!’
...the average age of bathers there was four score years and ten.
Well, I have to say my man was not exactly cock-a-hoop
He said ‘Who wants to take a dip in flamin' turtle soup!’
**for p.d's Turtle Soup contest