Best Sandbars Poems
Dusty roads and fresh grass
summertime rodeos approaching fast
riding with a friend down on sandbars
A piece of hay hanging out of his mouth
though some trapped water, out the other side
I had forgotten this wonderful life
I still see some twenty year old boy helping me up
now a sixty year old man rides in front
pointing all the changes in the last five years
I could not believe what time I lost
4 am to a cowboy is not early enough
my pants soaking wet my boots fixed
We rode on down to his dads favorite spot
to meet God when the sun comes up
we turned to face it and did not say a word
God's spirit was the only thing we heard
as earth to air, and water to fire, met in the sky
right there two old friends prayed to God
Sand in sheets
scuffing skin and reminding
last nights attire reaks like bonfire
a hundred days like this
a sea of endless laughs rolling
like filmreels infinitely looped fantastic
Their cars rolled in, shiney and pretentious
personalized plates waxed clever wit
crowding this small town to gloat in sand-side castles
Yacht club yucks shelling bucks like bayou crayfish
condescending, fun loving, brash Chicago touristas
Bless their daughters who filed in sassy
chin up, chest out trustafarians
scents of coconut lotion and clinique perfume
wafting through our warm lake breeze reality
Giddy and loving our rough edged style
intending to slum with townies, like we minded...
smiles glowing in those bonfire nights
mischievious and promising...
Every action thereafter defied catholic school education
...benificiaries of repression rebellion...like we minded!
Lake Michigan was paces from my bedroom window
These sparrow serenaded mornings..
...morphing into something amphibious
when the alewives were raked, we lay lazy
Bodies melted into sand~~ sated with sun
splashing back to cool off in sandbars
coolers anchored in those cool waters
taking long pulls off a perspiring Heineken
Beach days concluded with seagulls off to hunt
Squaking as they ascended into pink and orangecicle skies
The water shimmered like a million illuminated snakes
...side winding-mirrored the suns final say
Couples pulled up to Harbor landing to see the show
heads melted into one mass in windshields all around
lovers seeing nature's beauty more vibrant as lovers do...
The sunset brings a new purple backdrop
squaks are replaced with crickets chirps
Bright-then-fading green...BRIGHT-then fading green
Children gathered fireflies in jars laughing
Ice cream stained faces aglow with captive glee
Then to black and star filled, became the sky
we returned to cooler sand pushing between our toes
scurrying through dunegrass seeking driftwood and brush
creating a structure to take to flame...a science for proud boyscouts
There we gathered with newfound gals from cross lake 'burbs
sunrise would end our night tonight...awaking to lifeguards scolding.
Inspired by John Heck's Summer Contest!!
windswept clumps of grass
beach scattered with broken shells~
gulls lift on currents
sandpipers feed along
beach scattered with broken shells~
tiny legs twinkle
shorebirds feeding on
the tides endless offerings~
tiny legs twinkling
each day it changes
the tides endless offerings~
waves wash shifting sand
changing on each day
seabirds gather on sandbars~
waves wash shifting sand
ocean reflects sky
on sandbars seabirds gather ~
sleeping in warm sun
ocean reflects sky
people under umbrellas~
sleeping in warm sun
windswept clumps of grass
people under umbrellas~
gulls lift on currents
Between the lily pads and soft sandbars
Lay the saturated words of idle time
Among bloated carp and feisty sunfish
They linger in a sunny dampened rhyme.
Fleet Dragonflies of thought dodge darting Terns
The silent lure adrift, a bobber’s hope
A crusted turtle suns itself alone
Atop the edge of river’s muddy slope.
The river paints its beauty on my mind
Dares me to recreate it with my pen.
I fail, my words like Egrets, standing still
My vision trapped between the now and then.
Is there no hope, no freedom from this curse
To capture nature’s beauty in pure verse.
©10/7/2022
// Note - this was the graduation poem I wrote for my daughter,
a landscape architecture major who is also a lovely poetess //
You've blessed us as you've grown from bud to blossom;
Bright sunflower and signet marigold.
A miracle of God, sacred and awesome -
A masterpiece we joyfully behold.
Now pillars of your life are rearranging,
Yet sing this constant chorus, gifted gifter:
Through rise and fall of tides with sandbars changing,
One rock remains: God is your spirit lifter.
Your life a poem of blue-eyed, sun-drenched words
With meter of precise deliberation;
Rich metaphors of love and singing birds -
The soul-soaked sounds of sweet alliteration.
Gentle of heart and generous of mien,
Sing to the tempo of your heartbeat drumming.
Pursue your lush landscapes and walls of green
As who you are and who you are becoming.
written May 2016
In his book, "Out of my life and thought" Albert Schweitzer recalls
the afternoon in a boat at Lambarene, where he first conceived
his guiding philosophy, "Reverence for Life". The staggering
implications of such a seemingly innocuous generality still
confront us today...and perhaps more than ever with recent
discoveries at the sub-atomic level in quantum physics. But when
I buried my dad, it came to me that all the contempt I have for
anything military was compromised somewhat. I thought that day of
Arlington, when the historic burial rites of the US Army had
such a profound effect upon me.
Schweitzer's Creed
The doctor would have smiled, I think,
in reverie off Lambarene's shores,
to field a posthumous dream--
to learn dry atoms' call to other worlds
can reach and penetrate those alien shells
with marching cadences.
How so like Blake!...who found his universe
within a grain of sand,
for science stops in awe where life begins--
for it begins forever.
Small boats and yes, quixotic ideologies
will never let us be; old lives give way
as sandbars to the river; the old doctor
takes his bow, steps into history
and smiling still, bequeaths
a still more monstrous God of life
where even Alpha and Omega yield
to immortality!
~
I'm one of many people with shovels in the sand.
Some even go digging the crude way by hand.
In the estuaries, it is now low tide.
There are sandbars that the waters hide.
Buried in the sand are those round white shells.
Hunters are hoping that the number swells.
How many recipes for clams do you know?
There is chowder, steamed, fried, and Casino.
Those bivalve mollusks can be served many ways.
Folks go hunting for them during these days.
Many people like them raw out of the shell.
This way, they think clams taste so well.
A seagull alights on the broken dock,
dull grey feathers floating
in the thick Florida summer.
It cracks its beak, shrieks to the sun,
barely risen over the bayou.
Light glitters over sandbars, silty waters,
silver fish; light reflects
sky into sea, sea into sky.
A boat rocks on slight waves;
thick, strained rope anchors it to a sodden post.
Its deck is littered with soda cans,
empty sunscreen tubes, torn fishing line.
A door slams from the house by the road;
the seagull flaps away, startled,
leaves wisps of fuzz dancing in the air.
It disappears behind the dunes, a retreating ‘m’
on the horizon. Footsteps approach,
footsteps accompanied by soft giggles
and a pair of hands reaching
for the falling feathers.
Moonlit sandbars
Warm summer’s night
Slow swirling stars
A waltz with delight
Romance is soaring
In heavenly flight
Just words on a page
Hoping they might
Make you feel as I do
When I’m holding you tight
deep circular scars…
cold dark troughs between sandbars
sharks larger than cars
To succumb to one's own pride,
Or to the ferrying tides?
To hold on, you must decide,
That this journey's worth the ride.
Often times I see these boats
Stuck on sandbars, sometimes moats,
They can hardly stay afloat,
Yet somehow, onward they go.
Salt water taffy orchestrated,
pouring grain and sweating.
Spinning my silhouette,
as the dog failed his frisbees.
It doesn' let the sun’s rays wash over me,
replicate large wooden planks,
for heart boardwalking day by day.
Sandbars can sometimes be paramour,
idyllic feeding high memories.
So blue as seashells with a spiral pattern.
Averse to an occasional dalliance,
enthralling you, God.
Sometimes life can be like the sea when winds are calm, and the tide is right
we sail across the water of life.
But when the winds increase our sails become torn and tattered.
The problems and worries of life threaten to run us aground to become
shipwrecked.
As each Captain is the master of his own vessel.
Following the charts to avoid reefs and sandbars.
We too must follow our hearts and minds.
Reaching out to family and friends.
They are our charts in the sea of life.
Let them guide you like the North Star to open water.
Until the storm is past, and the winds of life are clam once more.
J. Sergi
I like to think that you were there
when muezzin trills called to prayer.
Calm stillness drifted in au clair,
my thoughts were pining on the air.
I like to think that you were there
as pastel-colored skies so rare
unfolded day's soft morning glare.
A comfort holding no compare.
I like to think that you were there
in uniform, so debonaire!
A dream of mine and yours to share.
We two were one, a single pair.
Desert winds shifted sandbars bare
with hateful, boastful, intense flare.
As I stand in hypnotic stare,
I like to think that you were there.
the horizon is endless
a lone ship at sea
passage for one
an intolerable feat
navigation by the stars
like the days of old
days of endless drifting
nights of rain and cold
no lighthouse to guide me
no havens on this tide
treacherous rocks and sandbars
along the windward side
tired of this journey
tired of being at the helm
tired of fighting the current
tired of being overwhelmed
sleep that forsakes me
dreams that won’t come
nightmares by day
for a soul that is numb
will this voyage ever end?
can salvation be near?
will I find a safe harbor?
or will I just disappear?