Best Shells Poems


She Collected Sea Shells, I Collected Sand - Repost

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. :)

Shells of Alamein Lest We Forget War

Lest we forget

When the Shelling 
And the Din of gunfire
Finally stopped 

His mind was shot
A hollow broken shell
Stood

Crooked in the corner of some foreign land
Every boy and man befell unto
Inspite of class or rank 
Come 1,
Come all 
To walk the plank

Into no mans land
Gods hands

As the marching band grew silenced 
Drowned out by the violence 

Of brethren slain,
Into the Dunes of Alamein

Premium Member Egg Shells

No more walking on egg shells
or stroking one mans pride

My wounded heart is open now
and at last so are my eyes

No more empty conversations
pro claiming he's the best

If truth be known his actions shown
He's just like all the rest

There is so much to be thankful for
I'm healing from the fall

But he's the one who's suffering
He could have had it all...


Premium Member Taco Shells

Taco shells are made of yellow corn meal.
They are tasty and crunchy, and usually a good deal.
You can stuff them with ground beef, chicken, or even fish.
Fill them up with plenty of whatever you wish.
Tacos are something folks north of the Rio Grande adore.
However, they break too easily and spill their contents on the floor.

Premium Member Seashore Sweepstakes

Seashore Sweepstakes

northwest rocky beaches
 waves disguise cache of prizes ~
jellyfish parade

Clams and Gooey Ducks
 hide in sandy blanket homes ~
no taste for chowder

hold your breath then dive
 Abalone glued on rocks ~
opal sheen of shells

clusters deep purple 
 swinging from rocks of fool’s gold ~
Muscles hold strong

always on the move 
 Hermit Crabs – house on their backs ~
looks for vacancies

Oysters together 
 bedded down with family ~
maybe hiding pearls

Limpets with strong foot 
 clings to rocks and to fingers ~
teal and turquoise hats
	
trophies from tide pools
 lucky tickets under stones ~
beach shore lotteries

Premium Member The Sea Shells Song

I've listened to it's calling, in awes amazement
Felt the rush of the waves between my bare feet,
Allowing the bubbles of sea form to explode,
As I spread my toes digging them deeply,
 Within the beaches warm sand.
Then at this moment of perfect splendor, 
 I pondered in thoughts deep contemplation, 
At natures raw marvelous wonderment.
Oh how I envy the seagulls above,
Whom soar above this blue blue aquatic world,
How free they seem to dive admits the powder clouds
Of the divine, crying in joys liberation.
These master fisher birds, gleaning morsels of
Food at the surf of the waters top layered edges.
White winged creatures hanging effortlessly
 Upon breezes of air, rippling over the currents
 Tidal surges.
Behold the epic beauty of the timeless sea, it brings
The sacred heavens themselves to weep, the angelic
Angels tears fall from Nervous itself, melting the sky's
Blue to blend with the waves, giving the bluish tint to
The aquatic world of elegance beneath.
Against the sheltering coves coral reef,
Within the wake of the rolling riptides crashing,
Scattered are the delicate aquatic trumpets of Poseidon.
A tender weepings sounding, is heard within
 The hardened shelled cocoon of the sea shells,
As they wash upon the sandy shore.
 Hush now mortal and listen to the sweet song of 
The sea, softly it so plays in meiotic rhythm,
Enchanting the vision insight of clarity, to beguilement
Of tranquility.
Can you not the hear the swaying of the tropical trees,
Lightly being caressed by the breezes of the sea,
On the distant shores of enlightenment.
At twilight's golden hour of sunset, the lord spreads
 Wide his miraculous canvas, to display his master
Work of divinity.
A brilliance shimmering in light of the divine,
Held encapsulated within the sea shells song.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.


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

Premium Member Atlantic Ocean --- POTD ----

"Morning arrives when the brilliant sun first kisses the Atlantic Ocean." By Poet

Once again the brilliant sun arose with a smile,
peeking over pretty water of blue.
                          For now the waves remain so calm,
                          a very quite and peaceful beach.
      Walking in sand leaving footprints,
      as the cool water licks my feet.
                                Overnight the Atlantic Ocean brings a gift,
                                scatters the sand with pretty shells.
                                Colors like a rainbow yet from the sea,
                                so many sizes to choose from.
                                As I walk picking up pretty shells,
                                people are starting to arrive.
Peaceful day is now filling up,
filling up with laughs~crying kids
                          Summer months where you can get burned,
                          being filled with very hot days.
I love the many winter months,
with the perfect daily weather.
Cool nights with warm days to enjoy,
the perfect Atlantic Ocean and perfect beach

Empty Shells

The sea waves

washing empty shells clean.

Laid in the sand, just where each should be.


The being

gone from inside the shell,

leaving colorful beauty behind.


In life's waves

we are born and we grow,

only to die and be lain to rest.


Our souls gone

from this now worthless shell,

leaving behind a unique story.






Christopher Bunton

For the "Parallelogram de Crystalline" Contest

Shells Ii Death Is Dead Once More For Now

Recall the midwife

To the cenotaph

War is over


For now at least


Nothing but poppy petal buttercup remain 
in tact to blow away this coming eve

Or grow from flounder's red sodden field

To flutter on a chasten solar breeze

Up and up so only downward grave
can see

So pray the world outside relent drunken
on the floral scent

Sprayed by white tailed doves formation 
flying overhead

Signaling in semaphore

Death is dead once more

We've little left to fill a casket

Apart from surplus faulty armaments

Scattered across the length and breadth 
of no man's lands

To carry these giant's home

To mother's

Wishing they we're never born

Or had a daughter instead

Amen

Florida Seashells

While walking in the white sand by the seashore,
The seashells were many.

I liked collecting them,
There were shells of all shapes and sizes.

I was given a lovely shell,
Beautiful blue and green.

I collected shells of all shapes and sizes,
You could have a sand dollar which brings you luck.

There was a conch shell,
A large shell where you could hear the roar of the ocean.

What a good memory of Florida,
I put them in a basket at home,

There was a starfish,
Starfish,starfish in the sea.

What do i think of thee,
There were flat shells, fairly common.

The memory of our beautiful holiday in Florida.
The friends we  met there at New Years.

The fire works that we viewed from the porch,
What a beautiful evening was had by all.

Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz

Premium Member Empty Shells

Empty shells I find on the beach
     can be looked at in two ways.
 In one aspect, they are seeds of death -
    the only tangible remains of once-living creatures
        now planted randomly in the sand,
but also it can be said that
     rootless - they still blossom beneath the sun
with their beautiful spiraled patterns
         as flowers from the sea.

Premium Member Untold Story

SHELLS
                                               sea shore
                                               ocean calls

                                           saunter listlessly
                                     temple chimes serenade 
                                     emerald waves roll away

                               "each shell hides an untold story"




                                            June 4, 2022
                             Followed format for Clarity Pyramid

For Shells Would Explore

For Shells Would Explore

For shells on beach, we would explore,
And when we did was more and more;
To sand stick;
Would pick;
Had found close by or on distant shore.

Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Shells and Ruins

But what of shells and ruins
The stories they hold
In silence they ponder
The truths of the past

And what of echoed voices
Do they tell what will be
Friend or foe
Piercing the wind

I also ponder the truth 
As I stand among the relics
And beseech the looking glass 
To speak to me

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