Best Sea Poems
They'll have you believe she was lost to the sea,
But the moon would beg to differ.
She was always lost,
Always looking for which way to go.
Or was that always looking for where she came from?
The moon couldn't really tell coming from going;
To a celestial body both look pretty much the same.
She wanted to be found asserts the moon.
Or was that to be seen?
She had confided at every turn,
Every phase,
I see you,
Do you see me?
I am but a sliver today, how about you?
A crescent, that's exactly how I'm feeling too!
I see you,
Do you see me?
No, not this moonless night;
I don't see myself either.
I see you,
Do you see me?
I see you.
I know you see me too.
You are the full that fills me.
She was not lost to the sea insists the moon.
It was not the sea that swallowed her
But my reflection.
18.01.03
Composed for Gregory R Barden's
Water and Sky
Untroubled is the quiet night
How peaceful is a world that glimmers white
Frost and moonlight have whipped a silver glaze
And silhouettes of trees are black as ink
The only sign of life are whiffs of breath
I stand transfixed beneath the sky,
to rest my mind with reverent eyes
upon the silky wonderland of snow
Among these masqueraded hills,
the night's aurora soothes my soul
Winter has dressed our world in alabaster white
Familiar landmarks wear a new disguise
And yet, we'll see the sky remains the same
where a thousand thorny sparks have kept their flames
burning low to light the dark
They welcome us like longtime friends.
These polished stars against the sky,
are brilliant new, with points honed thistle sharp
How peaceful is a planet that shimmers bright,
that to stand in voiceless wonder and gaze,
If we were to speak, the crystal world could shatter,
too fragile to bear the weight of words
I am a wave.
From far I come to you
Swimming with desire.
In wild curls I come,
Riding with music,
Travelling on sunbeams.
Within my hidden folds,
I carry the thoughts of love,
Wishing to rest on the shore.
Lashing playfully, I come,
Looping into a sensational hug!
But how sad, I can only embrace you
Just for a brief moment!
Over our heads, seagulls wing.
Around us, soapy foams giggle.
In wild ecstasy, I roar,
Crashing my head on your breast.
But I am made to drift away,
Leaving nothing behind,
But a stretch of dampened sand,
Reminding that we have once met.
Can I ever hold you again?
Wish I could once more,
Rush into your arms.
Sometimes I feel,
I am on an eternal journey.
With desires unappeased,
I continue traveling miles.
Let us be a pair of seagulls,
Flying in tandem, you forever,
Staying close to me,
With your wind under my wings!
Enraptured by blue Sea, Sun chose a place
above Sea, on a cliff. To touch her face,
Sun then sank low; final radiance fell,
a lover's fingers on her mighty swell,
with passion's touch her cobalt blue to trace.
A last caress. . . and then with quickened pace
arrived dark night with sable and black lace
to softly drape the one he loves so well. . .
enraptured by the sea.
A man went to that cliff and pled for grace,
for he had come with heart ache to erase.
The sea, grown icy cold, still cast her spell.
He knew that only she all pain could quell.
Like Sun did too, he fell to her embrace
enraptured by the sea
April 21, 2022
Submitted June 12, 2022 for
Mark Toney's 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 1 Poetry Contest
Oceana
Oceana flings her sequined petticoats
Upon the sands as if to toss the seaweed
From the swirling edges
While she dances with the wind
With each turn she swings her skirts
In thunder
As she passes – faster, faster -
Until her laughter foams upon the waves
And in the early midnight dawns
She turns to cover up
Her turquoise evening gown
With capes of fog so thick
The soaring gulls seem to carry
This her summer train
To quickly change into a dress of silver satin,
Bound with trims of frothy sprays,
Rising and swelling,
When morning reaches for windy afternoons,
She teases sudden lightning outbursts
Leaving behind upon the outstretched strands
A foaming lace of pearls
That decorate her new rippling dress
Of brilliant sapphire blue
Drawing it around the world in flowing currents
To follow, ever follow, the lilting music
Of her lover moon,
Softly singing enchanted melodies,
Ever beckoning his earthbound bride unto himself
To watch her gaily waltz upon the rolling seas
Circling to his rune.
8-22-25
3rd - Rob Carmack Premiere VIII
6-29-22 - N/A
Contest: Marathon Mile Five
Sponsor: Mark Toney
8-13-22 -
5th - Poetry Marathon Mile 12
Sponsor: Mark Toney
6/20/19
On Top 100 All Time Poems list
1st - Trophy Win - Juliet Lingon
1st - Julia Ward 11/29/20
1st - Brian Strand 1/14/20
Featured Poem 5/2/21
Included in Poetry Soup Anthology #2 - It's Still Poetry
Included in CWC Anthology - First Prize Winner Independent Publishers Award
Indie Press Awards
Ocean Whispers
I sit on shore by windswept seas
and feel the vibrant ocean breeze
As waves cascade upon the sand
in breathless wonders of this land.
I bask in balmy salty air
and feel the moistness in my hair.
Luna begins her lofty climb,
her silver beams are quite sublime.
While in the distance boat lights glow
and sparkle like a starlit show.
Ocean magic enchants tonight
to my romantic heart's delight.
To skinny-dip, I soon undress
in ocean swells with sweet caress
Secluded on this private shore
just waves and me that I adore.
8-28-22
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 13 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
___________________________________________
8-9-19
A STRAND (1047) Poetry Contest N/A
Sponsor Brian Strand
Devotion to Ocean Poetry Contest ~First Place~
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
~The Narwhal Beckons Before Dawn~
If I could sing a song,
It wouldn't be just any song.
I would sing a song about a fish
A fish who is not a fish, but a whale
Not just any whale, A Narwhal
This night I'll sing a short song of a whale
Dancing under the moonlight dusk
Swimming with ivory tusk, underwater musk
Rising to the morning glory in the sky
Communicating with the waves
Squealing around,
Trilling and clicking supersonic sounds
If I could tell you a tale
It wouldn't be just any tale
I would tell you a tale of a fish
A fish who is not a fish, but a whale
Not just any whale, A Narwhal
Grayish brown,
White freckled belly crown
Elusive and mysterious
Without the Arctic water, I'll get delirious
A rare whale, with a tooth for a hoot
Enjoying shrimp, squid, and fish food
Taking care of the young,
I swim in pods all day long
I' stay away from what consumes my cod
Polar bears, orca whales and native spear
My greatest fear and nightmares.
If I could share some words
It wouldn't be just any words.
I would share some words about a fish
A fish who is not a fish, but a whale
Not just any whale, A Narwhal
Deep, down the ocean odyssey
My beliefs and skin peel easily
With a tear, I drown
When called "The Underwater Unicorn"
My words are naught more than a sad song I sing
A tale of a whale not just any whale, A Narwhal
The next time you go out to sea
Looking for blubber and ivory
Please don't look at me!
For I am just a Narwhal
And, I belong to the sea
~*~
09/15/2015
Contest: Any Poem You Ever Wrote NOT For A Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
There Will Never Be Enough Time
There will never be enough time to hear unique
music of nature's songs in its birds, its insects,
in songs of the wind, or the sounds of the sea.
Or how earth breathes and is alive through its
caves and caverns, through its crystal rocks in
bell tones that ring soothing sounds for the soul.
There will never be enough time to visit all the
wondrous places this glorious earth has to offer.
Nor enough time to read all the talented poetry
our new technology provides us with online and
in favorite poetry books of masters long dead.
Poems that so inspire and leave hearts on fire.
There will never be enough time to view all the
sights in glorious colors of sunrises and sunsets,
of twilight's shadows and intricate silhouettes.
Nor the light on the mountains in verdant display
as mist weaves its magic o'er splendorous pines.
Sights that inspire thrill and enthrall so profoundly
with the beauty of it all, as each day's a divine gift.
There will never be enough time to breathe in life's
blissful perfume in scents of many flowers in bloom,
in lilac's, gardenia's and the magnolia's sweet scents,
or in petrichor's heavenly aroma from rain's dalliance.
In scents from the seaside or the mountain's fresh air,
in Mother Nature's great gifts of her fragrance so fair.
There will never be enough time to behold your love
in the grace of God's minion in spiritual connection.
That feeling of oneness, that special spark from all life
as it spreads contentment and warmth over body's
decay in knowledge we will all realize birth once again;
that all feelings matter in our Karmically created laws.
Yet, there IS enough time to give thanks and rejoice for
every life is precious no matter of life's circumstances.
3-3-19
*Dedicated To Robert Lindley whose poetry inspired this poem.
I watch moonbeams dance on an inky sea
Clouds drift on by, oh how the moon does shine
Moonlight shadows always fascinate me
This ever-changing scene is so divine
Clouds drift on by, oh how the moon does shine
As I stroll down to the sea late at night
This ever-changing scene is so divine
Stars are twinkling, giving celestial light
As I stroll down to the sea late at night
I’m captivated by such stunning skies
Stars are twinkling, giving celestial light
Until the morning sun begins to rise
I’m captivated by such stunning skies
Moonlight shadows always fascinate me
Until the morning sun begins to rise
I watch moonbeams dance on an inky sea
22~03~16
Sea of Love
The ebb and flow that comes and goes
with ocean’s deep emotion shows
that hearts, like knaves, become her slaves
beneath the undulating waves.
Excitement grows as hearts expose
amid the tempting tide’s repose;
surf’s breaking roar laps on their shore;
hearts enter through her luring door.
The ocean knows, as passion grows,
the secrets that they don’t disclose;
these hearts on fire with wild desire,
waves pounding as their needs require.
The ebb and flow still comes and goes
while sea of love, these hearts, depose,
and lust’s decree will always be
a product of this stormy sea.
November 7, 2019
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. :)
oh precious, dulcet diva, ocean-tide
you, of sand and foam and spindrift -
all your moods and meanderings
speak deep my spirit, wistful and wan
musings captured, gist enraptured …
I listen, close ...
on those warm and windy days, your
voice cuts clear, carries with it the joy
of sun sprites alighting on wave tops
hopping crest-to-crest like so many
gold pieces tumbling from pockets, laden …
I listen, rapt ...
becalmed days, the lull of low tide ...
gentle swells reach their arms ashore -
the cold brine washing sand and shell
like breezes sweeping the grasslands
rolling, as imagination rolls in the mind …
I listen, soft ...
whispering in my ear of the secret
dark places in my heart, exquisite
shadowy realms where passion and
reverie hide, pulsing with urge, aphotic
warm, enigmatic feelings flow and ebb …
I listen, true ...
an ocean storm's raging beauty, thus -
somber clouds, splashed Payne's Gray
swirl cruelly as Neptune flits his tresses
sea sirens lament with angry screams as
their backs are broken on reef and rock …
I listen, soft ...
gentle swells lapping brief, the sand
moon rising to the lullaby of a bell buoy
its tender peals coaxing the moonlight to
shore, Luna's beams tiptoeing gently atop
to join the phosphorescent waterline
(not to wake the slumbering breezes) …
I listen, sad ...
the gulls and terns laugh at the folly -
a man strains his ageing ears to the song
of the tides that he loves so completely -
the most divine and elegant aria known
and a voice so immortal and pure, that
it will croon on, long after there is naught ...
left to listen.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Your Choice (9), Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 7" Poetry Contest, Mark Toney, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "New Poems Only" Poetry Contest, Emile Pinet, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Voices" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.
Critics
Wrote a poem in the sand,
Wonder how it fares if left alone,
Will it bear on its own merits
Or juxtapose by meddling hands,
Meantime, sun-dries it again,
Wind shifts it broad and thin,
Indelible puddles left by rain,
Sand critters pop out and in,
A boy and his ball rolls along,
With a long sigh, looks on down,
Builds a sandcastle then leaves,
Ebbtide gone, flood tide flows cleanly,
I returned, stood and discern,
Comme ci, comme ca, c'est la vie.
14th line English translated from French, "Like this, like that, that is life."
05/09/2019
*POTD*
~~Team PoetrySoup
*6th Place*
old poems, FREE VERSE (003)
~~Poet Destroyer A
I
when the world had no headsets
the sunbathing crowd
fell asleep to the sounds of
transistors played loud
while the deckchairs and windbreaks
kites, beach balls and more
formed the stripes, lines and circles
that painted the shore
and the longer I walked
on the sand to that sea
the more the sea seemed
to get further from me
and the crunch in my mouth
was that one grain of sand
in the sandwich I ate
with my sand covered hand
while the lemons and melons
and plums I'd watch spin
would stop short of a cherry
one click from a win
and the postcards we sent
from the end of the pier
had us writing such half truths
as "wish you were here."
II
from the end of the pier
through the stiff breeze
and spindrift
I can still hear the tunes
of the promenade bands
and I can still see the stripes
of the deckchairs and windbreaks
and the box kites
and beach balls
that painted the shore
and I can still taste
the butter
- warm like the canned ham
and the crunch of that sand
in the sandwich I had
and I can still hear the djs
laughing and talking
spinning hits of the sixties
from transistors
played loud
and I can still smell the onions
frying wild in the fairground
to the sound of the claxons
and the lemon. click. orange. click. melon.
click. click.
and I can still breathe the deep smoke
swirling in sand dunes
from the benson and hedges
and
player's no.6
and I can still see those grown ups
staring at mirrors
- their bodies distorted
like the dreams
they once had
today on the pier
the rain that's now falling
falls from a same sky
on a same sand
and same sea
and a same me
- yet this air
this air
is not the same air
as that air I
once
breathed.
To be a bird and glide above the sea.
How wondrous that would be! To soar so high
amidst tranquility while wheeling free
above the currents in my azure sky.
I’d travel with the breeze in summertime,
then fly down low to touch cool salty spray.
To be one with such majesty – a rhyme
of “sea” and “me” would be this poet’s play!
At sunset I would thrill to see the view
beyond the bright horizon of the beach.
How magical would be the twilight's hue
that mirrored rippled water just in reach!
And when the moon and stars were big and bright,
I’d sweep the tides in stillness of the night.