Best Coastal Poems


Premium Member Coastal Sunset --- Haiku

coastal sunset -
dropping into the sea also
the juggler's ball



Written February 23rd, 2016
For the What Goes Up, Must Come Down Contest hosted by Catie Lindsey

Premium Member Coastal Sunrise

Sun
Peering
O’er the sea.
Prismatic waves
Reflect painted sky.
Colorful ripples dance,
Pelican silhouettes glow
With halos of pink, orange, gold.
As the orb climbs higher in the sky,
Bright light casts its gleam as stars and moon fade

Premium Member Coastal Breeze

From the east, a breeze
Sent from lands across the seas
Dancing with the trees
© Joe Inka  Create an image from this poem.


In a Coastal Town

World shifts, the air thins
In a coastal town... 
slatted blinds, every hue from
Warm reds to harsher blues
Hardwired to heaven
Homing instinct with
Different wavelengths
Sunlight scatters

They're more elusive
Ubiquitous in nature
Occasionally frightening
Peaceful yet troubled
Superficial beauty
Bewildering imperfections 
Sunlight fades to darkness
What mischief, what gentle
Assistance they can give
In legend, lore


Contest by Charlotte Puddlefoot, " Something Completely Different: Cut-Up Poems

Premium Member Coastal Sunset

ship rotting near shore
prismatic colors dancing...
     ocean’s reflections

nature kisses sea
multi-hues will fade at dusk...
     another dawn waits



*Based on the photo of the ship in the sea at sunset.
Written by November 5, 2011 for PD’s Sunset contest

Green Turtles

Green turtles are listed as, endangered
and are mainly found, in tropical and sub-tropical sea oceans
they are one of the largest sea turtles, to have ever embraced our oceans
 and are the only Sea Turtle herbivore, and a great sea ocean mentor

Green turtles graze on seagrasses, that helps maintain beds of seagrass
and when they have digested, going to the dunny release’s vital nutrients 
for many species of plants and animals, as they thrive with stimulants
and seagrass beds are nurseries, for species to amass their social class

Sea turtles need beaches for nesting, but humans are encroaching
and they harvest their eggs, and hunt the adults for greedy investing
Coastal development, vehicle beach traffic, and other human activities 
are destroying sea turtle nesting, and climate change is male declining


Premium Member Coastal Harvest

smoldering cattails
mosquito swarms kept at bay
gathering mussels

Premium Member Coastal

At lowest tide, you shimmer at my feet,
fluid glass thinly glazes my squirming toes
Pacific respite from today’s prevailing heat
The cycle of waves, on and on it goes,
a watered source of lifeforms grand and small
Your mollusk, Pisces, star, survive and thrive,
‘neath waters dark and deep with cloud and squall,
Your oceanic underworld abides
Above, below, each day these worlds collide
Horizons far delineate both spheres
On liquid current surge the wild things ride
Our lives lived out, separately but here,
entwined by water, air, the sand, the sea,
where waves will pass and creatures come to be.

Premium Member Quaint Coastal Setting

We parked on an old quay
Amidst a quaint coastal setting
Surrounded by platinum clouds
Minds soon interpreting 

In poise our thoughts now action
Thralled by the essence of her perfume 
No longer are we in said quandary
Now down to our birth costumes

Torso's dance in front seat tangle
Steamy windows our canopy hide
Oops! we've gone and hit the handbrake
Into the water our car now rides

Phew! within moments we disembark
Facing the actions of our cahoots
Penance our thoughts now interpret
All a quiver in our birthday suits


Written 18/02/2021

Coastal Path

Choppy sea below the cliff,
Obdurate ground beneath my feet.
Admiring the landscape,
Stimulating to my senses,
Therapy from nature.
Azure sea that meets the sky,
Lavishly growing heather and gorse
Punctuated between the ferns,
Absolutely beautiful,
Tempting me further along the path,
How I love my walk.

6th September 2019

The Last Grave

As centuries pass
The seas advance 
To take away the land. 
Lost to the waves
The ancient graves 
Reside below the sand. 

Cliffs that crumble
Remains lay humble
Eroded by the brine. 
The final tomb
To meet the spume
Clings to the shoreline.

Black Rhinos

Black Rhinos are listed as, critically endangered
They are found in deserts and grasslands, of Coastal East Africa
and are the smallest African Rhino, with two horns that are ravaged
and they are browsers rather than grazers, eating on leaves and trees 

Humans encroach on their land, which stops them from being grand
and with a lot of poaching going on, their lives are not looking long 
Their horns are black-marketed, for the use of medicines and ornaments 
but their lives are important, and should not be used as human servants

A Coastal Myth

The clarinet waves touched the moon.  

He walked like a rooster in the moonlight, 

bewitched by the music and the light. The 

caparisoned elephants swayed their heads 

to the drumbeats. A dozen half-naked virgins

danced around a bronze devil. “Human smell!” 

Everything vanished in the blackout. That 

escaped fisherman appeased the dark deity… 


With a wavering voice and goose-bumps, 

my wizened neighbor recounts thus the 

myth behind the coastal festival. I enjoy 

the false beauty. There is no analyzer in 

his thinking system. Superstition is highly 

inflammable in his illiterate inland. Such 

beliefs flourish here in the thick Fantasy 

Forest, where the reason rays never fall.

First published in The Literary Hatchet

Oh Would You Look At Her

She walks along a misty path humming yesterday's tears.
A breath of a thing, only promising to run in fear.
The sky cries when she walks into the open.
The flowers fade, knowing her love is broken.
His frosty lies left bruises on her dainty lips.
Her fragile hands still remember him.
Missing his ancient soul became her hobby.
Oh would you Look at her, such a lonely body.

Coastal Getaway

Tan skin and smile lines.
Breakfast diners and strong coffee.
Soft breeze and salt-encrusted waves.
Lowered windows and strange songs.
Dripping ice cream and picnic tables.
Inside jokes and evening storms.
Good books and toes in sand.
All these things go hand in hand.
© Sara J  Create an image from this poem.

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