Best Seascape Poems
The sun is setting
Incoming tide laps my feet
My thoughts turn to God
O souls of the Island,
I have silently
heard through
tropical torrents
and surpassed
a million miles
of the milky seas,
away from
mint-marine
silhouettes of my
utopian wonderland,
as strawberry
ripples and
coconut-scented
musings called
upon my
flamboyant spirit,
to explore those
ebony-emeralds
of universe and
envelop my hope in
creamy pink shells.
I have soaked in
sepia impressions,
ebbing as
crepe currents
on splitting shores
and windsurfed
through the
hibiscus rays
of life by forbidding
heartache hymns
of yesteryears,
from lurking in
jewelled hours
of today
and built a
kryptonite kayak
to sail in the
turquoise times
of tomorrow.
For, now I know
that the
opalescent ocean
has chosen me,
to return the
riveting spirit
of sage-rufescent
rivulets back to
the 'Heart of
Humanity's Cosmos',
shaped in
soft serenades
of seraphim.
When the
whispers of a
mauve french-rose,
blooming within,
will uncurl their
farthest wish
in silken twinkles,
my eyes will always
remember these
watercolor heights
splashing crayon dusks
and revealing
silver moon truths,
for there's more
beyond the
neon networks
of syzygy pearl skies
and chestnut reefs,
yearning to be
cherished by the
blonde alchemy of love.
So, I abandon
those sooty
regrets that snorkel
with their fragile fins in
kohl-lily gulfs
and observe these
constellations
of intuitions, formed
by the star-kissed
manta rays and
sketch sagacious
saudades laced
with hope, as a
halo around the
lilac Pole Star.
In this mortal
seascape of
the seventh heaven,
every orphan
of darkness
shimmers as
the beacon
of lustrous
sugar-scintilla that
shapes this world,
in ivory-smitten
spheres of
magically
diaphanous helix,
waltzing in whispers
of wind and water.
Every lava-skinned,
feminine flame
of doleful daffodils
was once a glittered
cherry-red gardenia,
laced with
cardinal buds,
who nurtured
velvet seeds
in the womb of
celeste compassion
and edenic empathy.
And like myself,
every sea-maiden of
sequined lush ruminations,
crowned with
purple plumerias,
is a whimsical wayfinder,
wishing for ~
white bells of serenity
and blue-star petals of peace.
Naked dunes recline and off the headland
Spume and dolphin fins hammer rocks,
Smithereens spraying skywards,
A roar of thunderous aftershocks.
Creeps in the tide and out again,
Leaving vortex swirls upon the sand,
Patterns changing, Neptune's scrawl,
Reclaiming atoms of the land.
The waxen polish on the surface
Holds the globules on the leather;
Droplet speckled transience,
Yet gripped in ever changing weather.
Grains of salt on lips that met,
And tasted ozone burning bright;
Devious undertow tugging feet,
Yet stand their ground in falling night.
With lighthouse tenacity, limpet strength,
Held each other, prayed for more,
And hewn of rock and ocean carved
Did yield instinctive on the shore.
A fresh sun dawning
Upon the white washed seashore
Glistens hope once more
The deepest ocean
Becomes shallow at the edge
How deep will you go?
Co-inspired by Raul's contest and by our minister's talk today on Integral Spirals of
Consciousness, going higher and deeper in stages and states.
Escape
Away from here
To the sea of Your grace
To assuage my fatigue in
Seascape.
Watching
An ocean calm
Just for a while, breathing
Salty sea, its moisture a balm
Healing.
Restores
forlorn spirits
Hearts that couldn't give more
With the distant song of whales to
Their love.
Escape
To meet You here
In the peace of this place
That restores my spirit, freed in
Seascape.
By CarolineCecile
copyright © 02.13.10
At the packed coastal beach, scents of chrysanthemums’ incenses
Adorned the cool sea breeze, perfuming my mollified senses
The late afternoon sun burned gently, its flames caressed my skin
Snowy clouds ambled the cheery skies, dressed in crystalline blues.
Its picturesque mirrored by the unruffled sea, as I took in
The panoramic scape, seamlessly flowing, forming curls of indigo hues.
The azure shades subtly paled, as flustered vistas grew morose
Soft mumbles preceded grumbles, in a capricious metamorphose.
Spindrifts and gusts conspired, in mutinous unity of quietude’s assault,
Strides of wave crests turbulent, broadcasted their unruly tumult,
The beach, depraved vestiges of the serene, scenic scape pristine,
In solitude rue of the sea's untamed, rowdy routine.
Surges of emotions compulsive, our dispositions rendered visible
Sometimes as the sea’s open sight, our auras discernible.
© Maverick Nyambu
From the depths of choppy waters,
Emerges the shell of man.
Draped in an aquatic robe,
Deliberately...making his stand.
With New York at his shoulders,
And the Big Apple by his side.
His robust presence emerged,
Creating...the evening tide.
The sun boldly illuminates,
The way for birds to fly.
As the world protrudes the heavens,
Through an M.C. Escher sky.
Oh, how you loved it, puppy,
When first you saw the beach.
“Sit, stay, don’t dig the sand.”
I had so much to teach.
You barked and rolled and chased the crabs
And snapped at flying foam.
And fell asleep within my arms
As I gently walked you home.
We took long walks together,
As you splashed and jumped on me.
And the years and tides rolled into one
At our place beside the sea.
The dimming years would stoke my fears
As you unwound from life.
And I put you away and there you stay,
So far away from me.
The tide pulls back so slowly
As I weep on bended knee;
But I can see you run forever
At our place beside the sea.
Quick and slow, pulsed to jibe and rudder
Late dancing in the luminous waves
The boats angle the cresting froth tops
Sails arched, full burst in the briny
Air paces vastly to horizon’s rim
The hazing glow of sky to sea
They bob and streak, the prows steadfastness
Each sailor guides to the compass, knowing
The importance of destination
On wings of whisper seagulls rise
Like an unhurried, gracious fleet
Which sails upon a sea of sighs
And takes my dreams away with it.
The clouds and waves anoint the sky
With drops of myrrh and hues of blue
Whose colors blend and tower high,
While masts glide free and out of view.
How soft and languid is the roll
Of vessels tethered to the pier!
I wonder if they hear the call
Of friends afar and fellows near.
They roll with jealousy and grief
While many others, far away,
Might float over a glowing reef
Or laze upon a peaceful bay.
But here, where seagulls roam above,
The sad and silent fellows weep
For fear their unrequited love
May die forgotten in the deep.
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
I stand upon St David's Head, alone,
Invigorated by the salt sea spray.
I watch the setting sun sink into the sea,
Gilding the waves as they die on the shore.
The tide advances in the little bay
And eddies swirl around a lonely rock,
Its outline dark against the sparkling waves
And brilliant bubbles shine like glitt'ring gems.
The curved horizon, now a golden glow :
Scintillating gold leaf, the restless waves.
While, shining white, the greedy gannets plunge
Into the sea to skewer startled fish.
Yet, full of drama, energy and life,
This scene evokes a sense of restless peace.
The sea paints an ever-changing portrait of itself in water colors.
The images roll through your view finder or your eyes as you watch.
Sometimes it is glassy silky smooth, syrupy, reflective.
You get to paint the sky twice, once above, once reflected.
Else, the surface is rippled and dappled with wavelets, like fish scales
Then, with bigger waves the colors darken and the surface roughens to
resemble blue rocks strewn.
It's time to add flecks of white as wind flips the top off small waves,
breaking them.
The scene resembles a meadow with a dense flock of white butterflies on
migration flitting over the ruffling surface.
Now as the waves get bigger more texture and deeper blue hues are needed.
More white is squeezed to paint the white-caps and white horses prancing on rolling hills.
More skill is needs to show the depth of field for waves curling with tops flipped over and crashing down.
Now, as the storm builds and winds howl the sky darkens to menacing.
You now need to convey the rocking and rolling movement of the waves surging up and down, driving downwind purloined with foam.
Then, later, only the huge breaking waves in the foreground are visible, the distant view obscured.
The sky is menacing grey and black, the foreground frothy white with foam.
The painter now transforms from painting seascapes to painting wild waves, curling up, the surf tumbling down and surging spray and foam.
As dusk descends and darkness drops in, the sea packs up its paints and easel.
Time to rest and slumber on seabed, until dawn heralds a new day, a new seascape of marine art to paint.
So folks out there, come down in morn to the seashore, and watch the sea paint dynamic seascape self portraits.
Bring your paints and easel.
Join in. Its Free!
Frothy whitecaps fill the horizon,
waves crashing against the sand;
a painters view.
Capturing the blue, green, and grays
of the turbulent sea;
a canvas awaits.
Sea birds diving, casting shadows,
interrupting the light;
a brush poised.
The roaring sound of the water
fills this painter's ear;
a picture appears.
The rumble of the sea
is not easily captured;
in this seascape masterpiece.
Warmth from the sun at mid-day
Wave after wave from the sea
Sand in the wind and salt spray
Weather shaped rocks of beauty