Best Sand Poems
~Sand Castle De Mal~
Beauty sails along the shores of life
Out there broken dreams form above sand dunes
Silent, God listens to the triumph of his creation
3-14-2015
3 line verse
She collected sea shells, I collected sand
She collected sea shells,
I collected sand
She searched for the perfect one
I reached down my hand
I carried a bucket
A basket she did whirl
Mine was filled with tiny grains
Hers with mother of pearl
She came out each morning
Me, just late at night
She adored the sunrise
I loved the moon light
Then one day it happened
My alarm clock didn’t ring
I woke to a rising sun
It was the weirdest thing
I ran down to the shoreline
My bucket in my hand
It’s then I saw her gorgeous face
While I collected sand
I found a perfect seashell
And watched her eyes grow wide
She held out her basket
I placed the shell inside
Then she reached down before me
And gathered in her hand
I held out my bucket
She filled it up with sand
And now each day and evening
We walk along the shore
She told me that she loves me
And her I do adore
So if you see us out there
Strolling hand in hand
Know...she’s collecting sea shells
And I’m collecting sand
This is one I posted when I first arrived here, I thought I'd share it again. :)
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(PoetrySoup Format)
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. . . someone like me, sultry and carefree,
becomes excited in tender moments,
simply
anticipating spring, the silhouette of summer
warmth leaves me breathless, and
seasons never cease to be expressive and please
perhaps i’ll imagine the possibilities,
beyond this sweet ache
do you understand the feeling of being windswept,
how i long to escape and frolic ?
( to linger in days of seagulls and sand,
salty air dancing upon luscious lips,
. . . sighing as the moonlight twists its fingertips
through my dirty blonde hair -
tangling its glow, softly and slow
as waves welcome me, in pure ecstasy )
perhaps i’ll imagine the possibilities,
beyond this sweet ache
- - under a pink umbrella basking,
absorbing the radiant atmosphere,
with creamy coconut lotion on sun-kissed skin,
while sculpting sandcastles unevenly, as the tide moves in - -
*sand in sandals *
even the wind, with its soothing melody,
moves distant clouds my way, in hopes to soothe me
perhaps i’ll imagine the possibilities,
beyond this sweet ache
. . . to finally feel, only you
____________________
~ A Romantic Scribble ~
(Longing for warmth)
. . . The season, or your touch ? ? ?
Perhaps both
It's quiet here - quiet in a way that catches me off guard. The tranquility is almost tangible, something I can touch and hold and wrap around myself. I can hear the pulse of faraway waves, the faint hum of the wind, the nonsensical call of distant seagulls. I can hear my own heartbeat, pounding along with the waves.
As I kick off my sandals, my spirit steps out of my body, leaving behind the material baggage of city life. The sand is soggy beneath my feet and I know my footprints will disappear when the sea rises, as if I were never here at all.
It's low tide, that magical time when the sea recedes to reveal the ocean floor. Grooves of sand catch pockets of water that are half-buried mirrors, reflecting pale blue sky and slices of violet sunlight that glitter like chipped diamond.
a vocal seagull
descends toward liquid skies –
reflections ripple
At low tide, a second beach emerges, stretching all the way across the bay to the opposite shore. I walk slowly, tasting salt on the breeze as it runs invisible fingers through my hair. Strands sweep across my face, catching in my eyelashes before fluttering free once more.
The beach is a dream catcher, snagging small treasures when the sea withdraws. And I am a child again, fascinated by the hermit crab retreating into his shell as I approach. I spot the dimpled surface of an urchin’s shell peeking out from wrinkled sand. Other shells are scattered across the beach, some upside down, exposing smooth, pearly souls.
a tiny starfish
drifts beneath placid water –
lost constellation
When I find a sand dollar, my breath catches. It’s perfectly whole, with smooth, rounded edges and clean, ivory skin. It’s heavy and light all at once, the flawless design at its center subtle and brilliant, like a delicate floral tattoo. How many hours had I spent here as a child, searching for this transitory coin?
My eyes fill with unexpected tears as my vision wavers behind distorted pools of grief. I’m half-blind until I blink, releasing salty rivers down my cheeks. Even then, my sight is murky.
My tears taste like the ocean and I think, suddenly: Whose tears fill the sea?
Written: November 4, 2015
For Charlotte's "Creative Haibuns" Contest
Along the feathered edge, a red sun-sets
To bind the evening in dreams eyes explore
Two hearts will greet, till' paradise begets
Love leaves impressions as waves swirl to shore
These caps of white will churn warmly the sand
The world will pass, the change of light is missed
Lonely eyes search for their yearning dreamland
When lips taste fire in a hungry kiss
As night arrives to shelter silhouettes
Soft is the sea to these two souls afar
In a twilight's pulse when the tide resets
And hands hold tight to await the Daystar
The fate of these lovers sealed in evermore
Tomorrow's memory from the seashore
9/3/18
"Happiness and sorrow ebb and flow like waves upon a beach,
and I am but a grain of sand."
by poet
I think of myself as nothing more than a sunflower
who, at the hint of first light, turns to face due East
Respectful of dawn, through God's glorious power,
morning stirs my spiritual need, and upon it I feast.
It's not a shortcoming to be generous and humble,
nor a weakness in my character, a burden to bear.
I'm never too proud to ask for help when I stumble
for if I humbly ask for His hand, it will be there.
Defiantly, pride seems to take control before a fall
Arrogance is a foolish trait that becomes a liability
ending in dishonor when the foolhardy hit a wall.
Humility can be a saving grace; but not a disability.
I am just a tiny grain of sand, washed upon a beach,
a speck of dust on Earth, the size of a mustard seed.
I believe by being modest, happiness is in my reach
Content with what little I have, not tempted by greed.
Integrity is an admirable quality in an altruistic mind
Benevolence and compassion are gifts to be lauded
By living an unassuming life, my worth will be defined
without need to be rewarded, praised, or applauded.
November 3, 2021
Your Own Philosophy Statement Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Wrinkles and gray hair
get me in a rage
and I say to myself,
“Why don't you act your age!"
My poor aching feet
remind me to wear sensible shoes
but these black stilettos
take away the blues.
.
I wear glasses to see
but they're tinted green
and make me look
cool and mean.
I have a million pills to swallow
and sometimes I think my head is hollow.
I forget my keys, my purse and my coat.
Where in the hell did I put that remote?
Once I was so limber
I could touch my toes
but I refuse to talk
about my ills and woes.
When pouring the tea
if my hands shake
I simply say,
"Another earthquake!"
What was I thinking
When I bought that new car?
My old one was fine.
It just couldn’t go far.
I’d go on a trip
if it weren’t for my hip.
Maybe I'll give up drinking.
Well, I’ll just take a sip.
Okay, I’ll take my pills
for all my ills.
I’ll take a walk around the block
but I will not wear those damn compression socks!
Well, I guess I’ll hang in there
as long as I can
just to see my grands
build castles in the sand.
I'll exercise each day
while in my head I’ll say,
“I still feel like I’m only twenty-five.
Thank God, it’s great to be alive!”
By: Carole O’Terry Duet
Copyright: 6/20/2020
“All Rights Reserved”
~
For every grain of sand the ocean shoreline comes to move
To count them all a task so very long
Fill your hand with grains that come in time to you to prove
The softness is a feeling ever strong
Endless possibilities now sprinkled in the wind
Dancing to the magic that we feel
Shiny little glistenings about the ground begin
Each and every footstep is so real
As we walk along our feet they know where we have been
Only do our hearts know where we go
Just to have these moments in our life now once again
And the knowledge that I love you so
Somewhere there’s a number written down in someone’s dreams
Noting every grain of sand we see
Staggering the digits as I hope the number means
Every day that you are here with me
~
My Blood Bleeds Sand
My blood bleeds sand,
That golden sugar that spreads
Across the wandering West
Where purple sage dots, and
There a tarantula spreads atop
A random hill.
Where blazing and blinking stars light
Black blue skies.
And stupendous sunsets
Color and shadow sand mounds
Like bald-headed men, and
A free blowing wind carries the howls and dances of
Long ago chief and squaw.
Where prickly pears bear red wax blossoms, and
Mescal thrusts and thirsts to the clouds
Over tracks of slithering snakes.
And whistling wails in moonlight beams
Echo ancient wagon songs
Where I belong.
My blood bleeds sand.
WRITTEN IN THE SAND
The Big Five—Africa’s pride in the vast open wild
Buffalo, Rhinoceros, Elephant, Leopard and Lion
Their prey—scattered Impala, Kudu and Waterbuck
On hardened dust… their footprints prevail and stand
WRITTEN IN THE SAND
The proposal day--- carefully planned- a beautiful beach
Red Roses, a Picnic, Sunrise and Diamond ring
The petals—scattered on the soft damp sea tabloid
Lover’s plea….a stick his pen, “Marry me—take my hand”
WRITTEN IN THE SAND
Early one morning--- He entered the dusty temple to teach
Scribes and Pharisees brought her in—an adulterous
Large stones…scattered for all to throw and accuse
Jesus bent down… wrote with His finger on condemning land
What was His message…..?
WRITTEN IN THE SAND
If I had but one last sorrowful day of my life left,
there would be words I would say without delay.
Too long have I struggled, uncertain and bereft,
my tongue silent as though mired in a pit of clay.
Until now, I found myself sifting sand from my soul.
Now, willing to bare my heart's unavowed affection,
I must find the bravura to proclaim it and be bold,
and yet I find myself fearing your gentlest rejection.
Time warily squandered shall never be returned.
So, I'm seeking courage to reveal what I am feeling,
while hoping my sweet ardor shall not be spurned
nor the love for you that I have long been concealing.
Gleaming are stars hovering aloft in evening skies,
but if gathered together, never could they outshine
the luster I descry in the fulgent light in your eyes
when the beat of your heart and mine finally align.
When the pale moon rises to Heaven at zenith height,
its glorious beauty shall emerge from a lunar eclipse.
Not as seductively alluring to be with you on the night
when alas I shall feel a kiss from your sensuous lips.
Thereafter, sunlight shall yawn on the edge of dawn
but your love shall warm me more than his golden rays.
No greater fire is there to be compared with love born
by your searing touch that easily sets my heart ablaze.
If this is but a fantasy, I dare not lift tremulous eyes to see
the response to my avowal, if on your face it is defined.
I shall not bear the heartache if you turn away from me,
for then it would be a benediction, if my eyes were blind.
January 29, 2023
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 26 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Originally written in 2016
for a contest sponsored by John Hamilton
An old man wrote upon the sand,
Sea foam sweeping to the shore,
It's lowest ebb, the tidal bore ...
Coins of sunlight, gold and grand.
His pen, a cane that was a gift,
Long ago when times were good ...
His lovely wife had found the wood
Washed ashore, among the drift.
She carved it in her loving way,
With intricate designs and words,
A heart, initials, and some birds ...
A gift to him one Christmas day.
She was gone now, twenty years,
Then ravaged by a winter's flu ...
Now he was left with naught to do,
But try to mitigate his tears.
So each day to the sea he went,
And etched an ode upon the beach,
His tortured soul revealed in each,
Meant to quell his heart's lament.
But twice a day the tide came in ...
And washed his sonnets off the shore,
To him, a sign she wished for more,
Poems of all that might have been.
The love he'd one day see ... again.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Writing Challenge 2, August 2019 - Enclosed Rhyme" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart, Judge & Sponsor.
Flip flops and straw hat adorn him, beach wear suits him nicely
Kind is he to her as he scoops into a bucket measuring precisely
Casted are his piteous passions in sunstruck warm sands
Gently shaping and capturing her likeness, she is in skilled hands
Stooping over chin to knee he bares bronze shoulders glimmering
Her features delicate, her hair etched in his mind flowing, shimmering
An energy is sensed as sand and water caress through his fingers
Behold if only Aphrodite answers his prayer, he pauses and lingers
Recollection clears a birth, breath of life be given this inanimate object
A saintly face faintly appears, he’s fallen in love with his imminent project
Sculpting feminine curves slowly surfacing, an hourglass figure shaped
An alluring amazon controls his very soul, an apotheosis angel draped
Belief in a statue which comes to life, vehemently pangs the phenomenon
Alas the last touches fini, fervently he unveils his seaside Pygmalion
And without further ado, emerging from the ivory sand, he prizes
An obsession his idée fixe at the edge of the pier, a sand goddess arises
We are taught not to judge but how far does that go?
Yes, we're all taught to love but how much of it shows?
We like to throw stones at the devil's scapegoats
Yet the ears that will listen are hearing this quote:
"Judge not lest ye be judged", and isn't it true?
Or are some people so bad that our judgment is due?
Did you think that salvation was exclusive to you?
If you light fires of judgment won't you be consumed?
I can't speak for you but I don't want to judge people
After all, under God we are all loved as equals
When I join the accuser and his self-righteous band
Somehow I can see my own sins in the sand
Upon ice clear - frozen window pane
A single breath remains, captured warm - then dissipates
Beyond - whipped by season's song
Somehow, beauty mixes with fury
Living white smoke snakes across grassy fields
Powder dunes shift aimlessly
Seeking their space to claim
No sign of life...
The landscape foreign - engulfed as prisoner
Inside I feel much the same
But..now beside fire's glow
When winter has had her say...this sand will pass
....give way to spring's soft plush green grass
© Donna Jones