Best Beachcombers Poems
Treasure from the sea
Golden doubloon
Sixteenth Century artifact
By ancestors hewn
Earth’s history lays buried
Beneath five oceans
As undersea tremors
Create violent commotions
Freeing from Spanish galleons
Precious metals, gemstones
To greet early beachcombers
History on loan
Memories of bygone ages
Scattered on the sand
Finally kissed by sun again
While in a searcher’s hand
I pursue this morning trek
With Atlantis on my mind
Seeking proof at last
In treasures I might find
When ancient civilizations
Seem to disappear
Comb the beach, you might find
The evidence is here
For like a phoenix rising
New finds appear each day
And I’ll not stop searching
Till doubts I can allay
Categories:
beachcombers, history,
Form:
Rhyme
~South Florida~
(Free Flow )
The temperature is rising
We're in the hottest days of summer
Heat and humidity in the air are soaring
Sometimes for days the rains are just pouring
This is summer with all its days full of sun and fun
People strolls the beach, and swim far beyond the sand
Beachcombers spend there their time till the sun goes down
Surfing and sunbathing is all a big part of their fun
You see children running and playing
Some are so happy building sandcastles under the sun
There are people of all ages, sexes and shapes
Some are sitting, eating and laughing till the day is undone
These are the hottest days of summer right where I live here
Living in Florida for so many people can be a lot of fun all year.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2005
May.03.2016
Categories:
beachcombers, beach, beautiful, summer, sun,
Form:
Free verse
I’m soaring through a sunset – violet
as sun drips into water cobalt blue.
How peaceful is this twilight time. I let
my eyes take in the total gorgeous view.
My mates fly with me. Beachcombers we spy!
We squawk and squeal and circle with delight.
Then down to where the humans are we fly.
We need to look around while there’s still light.
Before the sun into the ocean dips,
I hope to find some food upon the ground.
I relish scraps of fruit and yummy chips!
Oh joy! I see my lovely mate has found
leftover crumbs. She shares them all with me.
How glad are we to be birds of the sea.
Jan. 30, 2021
Categories:
beachcombers, bird,
Form:
Sonnet
Astir the divining of earth.
The sea is alive and gives birth.The sand gives a sigh
And waves are so high.
The beaches all filled up with dearth.
A freak — oh its mock and its girth.
The tsunami cursed all its worth.Some beachcombers die,
As rest of them cry.
The island deprived of its mirth.
Categories:
beachcombers, death, sea,
Form:
Limerick
Look at you , my young brother so alive
like a sea-god with feet curling on waves,
the reef drenching our boxers of summer
with impish eyes grinning till noon cracks.
I have a best buddy gentle as crests’ ebb;
he’ll be a rocker like me when we grow up,
chart- topper of wind-songs blowing the tides
drooling cool rhythm ; fine lyrics I will supply.
Trust me, your superman vows on bond’s warmth
under lit stars, guitars and bonfire shall flame…
now, if our folks can add a sister into this knit
five of us beachcombers, can conquer the seas!
Oil Paintings 1-2-3 any Poem form
For Eve Roper’s Contest
Visual #1
11/14/2015
Categories:
beachcombers, brother, care, dedication,
Form:
Light Verse
The Storm
We stand at the edge of the sea
Where waves rush towards us like snapping dogs
and high above our heads, the seagulls surf the wind for thrills.
Their noisy squawks and calls cannot be ignored,
As the storm carries them upon its windy back,
To deposit them above the harbour.
The weather worsens, so we head towards the pub in the harbour,
While the thrashing nauseous sea
Finds things that it had long hidden and throws them back:
The wood from a boat, a fishing pole, the rubber balls from a hundred dogs.
Looked over by beachcombers but mostly ignored.
These are not the things that bring them thrills.
Then those who find that surfing, thrills,
Come up mob-handed, these strange, seal-like creatures, from the harbour,
and the tempest is ignored.
As they rush, laughing towards the sea.
This angry sea told about in tales by old sea dogs.
They surf on to the beach, then turn and swim back.
We carry on to shelter. Turning back,
we see the seagulls have forsaken their wind-swept thrills
and stand around, begging like hungry dogs,
In the pub carpark, on the harbour.
But coach trip visitors who have come for the day to the sea,
Cram into the pub, to avoid the storm and the seagulls are ignored.
The sign that reads ‘No Wet Clothes in The Bar’ has been ignored.
When they’ve dried and eaten, they’ll go back,
To tell their friends about the angry sea
and how, in a tiny whitewashed pub, they found safe harbour.
They came for thrills,
And ate hot dogs.
We sat on the carpet in front of the fire like two wet dogs,
The singeing smell from our clothes was ignored.
As we dried ourselves in that cold harbour.
And resolved to go back
to see what thrills
had been left in our house for us, by our neighbour the sea.
Later in the pub, stories of the sea
are told by the locals, the old ‘Sea Dogs’,
But today, everyone thrills
to their tales and they are not ignored.
For we all live around this harbour,
And now we really must head back.
Categories:
beachcombers, storm, weather,
Form:
Sestina
A lovely walk, a promenade leads the way
Burnt orange succulents stand like bushes serene
Crushed tepid deep, whitewash stirs up behind the scenes
Delightful blends of blue sky in-between
Entwined the seaweed branching out for a reach
Finely tuned trumpet sounds of swoosh on the beach
Glassy prisms beam through dark shades
Horizon blended ocean, sky, behind palisades
Intruders running 'round, sand in face
Jelly fish glow and charm with grace
Krutsinger Island, the sign reads
Lover’s bed and breakfast needs
Men and woman frolicking in the water
Naked babies cry out with laughter
Oceanic mammals creep by
Palm trees, flowing, occupy
Quietly recedes then tosses its sea
Rentals, beachcombers welcome
Surfers ride their boards for fun
Tingling with a cooling breeze
Umbrella of waves, high tides come and go
Verdant colors make for radiant seascape
Whales bellowing blow show
Xanadu paradise plan your escape
Yachting, sailing, tagging and more
Zanzibar coastal getaway tours
Categories:
beachcombers, beach, fun, summer, sunshine,
Form:
Abecedarian
Moon brightens
Crystalline sand of fine glass
Glowing jade under light of cosmos
My body like driftwood
Unnoticed by beachcombers
Searching for that blush
The rosey wine stones
Coveted by the stars
Star shine, moonbeams
Ever glancing down
At my body
Twisted as driftwood
Unbeknownst to
Lovers hand 'n hand
On the beach of amor
Dearest sun flares
Dry out my wet thoughts
Long ago of coming of age
Those stolen diamond eyes
The vino deep colors
Of your pouty lips
Travel far for your
Driftwood, twisted as I
Moon bright
Shine down
Raptured in thy cosmos
Peacock painted veil
Cover my quiver
Lip nor frown or smile
Stargazer, interstellar
Pathways yet to find.
Categories:
beachcombers, body,
Form:
Romanticism
BEACHED
broken
abandoned
to the cruel sea
which unrelentingly
scatters driftwood on the shore
" where beachcombers each day explore"
Sponsor Joseph May.
Picture number one.
6 / 12 / 2022.
Howmanysyllables.com
Categories:
beachcombers, beach, boat, sea,
Form:
Verse
Oceans harbor many mysteries, some say too much.
Wave ends reach out to powdery sands, gentle foamy touch.
Beachcombers muse the seventh is always the largest wave,
Believing science isn't certain, it's only for the brave.
The universe teaches nature's rules, which seem so immutable.
Quantum particles always move, is their existence refutable?
Too early we learn principles not to doubt,
It's what certainty's absurdity is all about.
If you can't count on how waves come in,
How then does truth ever begin?
Calm down, calm down: learn to let it go,
Some find happiness with what they already know.
Watch the Sanderlings on the beach, see how they behave,
You'll find your truth well enough, the joy you dearly crave.
Categories:
beachcombers, beach, joy, nature, philosophy,
Form:
Couplet
Favorite Carolyn Devonshire Poem
History Rising from the Sea
Treasure from the sea
Golden doubloon
Sixteenth century artifact
By ancestors hewn
Earth's history lays buried
Beneath five oceans
As undersea tremors
Create violent commotions
Freeing from Spanish galleons
Precious metals, gemstones,
To greet early beachcombers
History on loan
Memories of bygone ages
Scattered on the sand
Finally kissed by sun again
While in a searcher's hand
I pursue this morning trek
With Atlantis on my mind
Seeking proof at last
In treasures I might find
When ancient civilations
Seem to disappear
Comb the beach, you might find
The evidence is here
For from a phoenix rising
New finds appear each day
And I'll not stop searching
Till doubts I can allay
Caroline and I shared of love of water - she the ocean and I lakes and Puget Sound. Her poems flow like tides - effortlessly - with bits of wisdom scattered like treasures of seashells or driftwood found on the beach. This poem speaks of our mutual love of beachcombing for treasures and the pondering of history brought to mind by life's flotsam.
The poem below represents my tribute to Carolyn.
Girl on a Dolphin
Stargazing ocean pixie
Rides the playful weathered waves
To surf the ocean tides
With laughing dolphins
Leaps to catch Delphinus
Starfarer in a star bound chrysalis
To ride this five star celestial constellation
On heaven sent lapis astral waters
Wearing moonstones like Apollo’s poetry
Where starry Aquila flies to Lyra’s music.
Salt spattered waves only gaze
At a girl – eternal sea sprite –
That sits atop a stellar dolphin
And feels the shell torn loss
Of feet that danced through tidal pools,
Delight and awe surging through her signature,
As time bound day searches midnight legends
To align in twinkling sidereal day –
A quest for remnant memories in verses
Of a star born spirit – girl riding on a dolphin.
For Carolyn
8-19-21
Contest: Celebrating Carolyn's Poetry – Not a Contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
The constellation Delphinus is made up of five stars and can be seen between the constellations of Aquila, the Eagle, and Lyra, the Lyre. It is named for two Greek legends based on dolphins one of which tells of Apollo setting a dolphin in the sky in gratitude for saving the Greek poet Arion. Apollo is the god of music and poetry.
Categories:
beachcombers, animal, girl, life, ocean,
Form:
Free verse
footprints in the sand
on a tropical seashore
beachcombers explore
9 /27/ 2018
Categories:
beachcombers, beach,
Form:
Haiku
‘Neath the umbrella the sun peeked shyly,
My eyes flickered on the wash of the surf
A seagull in search glanced at me wryly.
A fine day at the beach, earning a smiley
Relaxing on Mother Nature’s sandy turf,
‘Neath the umbrella the sun peeked shyly.
Several beachcombers observed me dryly
Wondering, I suppose, at my sunburn scurf,
A seagull in search glanced at me wryly.
A ship on the horizon, a sight I prize highly
A toddler nearby was playing with a nerf,
‘Neath the umbrella, the sun peeked shyly.
I heard the kid’s mother call him Wylie,
“Don’t bother him, play with your smurf!”
A seagull in search glanced at me wryly.
Carefully, I slathered on sunscreen slyly
On the cargo ship, I imagined a tourist berth
‘Neath the umbrella the sun peeked shyly
A seagull in search glanced at me wryly.
Written March 29, 2022
Categories:
beachcombers, beach, fun, happy, nature,
Form:
Villanelle
blue lagoon lovers
palm fronds gently console us
waves crash cool climax
Categories:
beachcombers, beautiful, best friend, emotions,
Form:
Haiku
Peach-pinched beachcombers
enter the scene
with sugary-sun splashes,
darkened sunglasses.
Beautiful Bahamas
with pink sand beaches
and the gully wash
that ebbs and flows, sweetens
her veins with serendipitous warmth,
tantalizes his bushwacker brain.
Foraminifera of her cheeks,
her wet towel beneath.
Horseshoe bay smiles,
waves them in
with its turquoise siren-sea and
blushing granules.
Bahama mama runs
as if she’s a Bay Watch babe.
To the one who embraces
her intoxicating hand,
she is the embodiment
of a precious shell in his palm.
Does he feel the sun…
smell the salty air?
He feels the heat indeed,
tastes the salty air she breathes —
She is the Bahamas to him.
He crashes the island
of her flowery towel.
His lips envelope
his piña colada.
9/22/2020
Categories:
beachcombers, beach, drink,
Form:
Free verse