Best Shore Poems
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!
Grim fog, I praise the shelter of your drear,
the sundown ghost morose not grandiose,
I walk alone - but, no -- with my despair;
a bittern bids a bitter adiós.
The breakers so in agony they gnash
and gnaw the strand with thrash of foamy green,
the tempest witch brings ironfisted lash
alas, the eye-of-storm epiphany unseen.
Free, free! The tern who flies in Gemini
above beloved peak and shore and wave,
sun-painted wings, away you went -- so spry,
so fierce! Bluebird pierced and buried in your grave,
..and the stars understand; a fateful fall into the sea --
Damn the deep! It’s jostle docile.. my scream to meet the scree!
Susan Ashley
June 29, 2021
~ Fourth Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mille 11
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Contemporary Sonnet
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
*bittern: any of several tawny brown herons
*scree: an accumulation of weathered rock fragments at the foot of a cliff
*a Modern / Contemporary Sonnet is a poem of 14 lines addressing any theme of the poet's choosing. It does not need to adhere to any set rhyme scheme, syllable count or meter, nor does it need to include a volta. The only true requirement of a modern sonnet is that it consists of 14 lines*
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.
Silent, she slips from her stronghold’s security,
safely tucked high on the cliff in her nest.
Cautious, she stays in the shadows afforded her,
sorrowful, hesitant, missing the rest.
Her parents and siblings had sought out the sunshine,
flying the open air, learning their craft.
Soaring and diving, they basked in the currents;
she, feeling poorly, by chance, had stayed back.
Sounds like a cannon had rung out above her;
shrieking and screaming, she watched the first fall.
Caught in the open with no chance for cover,
savagely, swiftly, death came for them all.
Hugging the hillside, she used the thick foliage,
bobbing and weaving, avoiding the limbs,
calling on instincts she knew not inside her,
fine-tuned adjustments through flexes and trims.
Cover was ending; the ocean awaited her.
Her heart was racing, her mind strangely clear.
Mother had taught her to seek out the currents;
a warm water pocket meant updrafts were near.
Tucking, she dove as she flew in the open,
a bullet herself, towards shiny blue glass.
Braking so subtly, just at the last moment,
she shot across wave tops, dizzily fast.
There! A small change in the water beneath her.
Pulling up hard, she flapped skyward and soared.
Where she was headed lay unknown before her,
on past the sunset to some distant shore.
Pushed there for a thousand years
and will be for a thousand more,
pushed there by the gentle winds
the silver waves upon the shore.
Ancient trees who watched here daily
are now dark silhouettes 'round the rim,
as dusk settles in over the still lake
and a dragonfly takes a final skim.
As the sun dips below the surface
silver waters gain a hint of gold,
their riches flow around my feet
giving me memories to be told.
The sands of time sift down below
where life goes drifting by,
and laid there for a thousand years
and beneath them, so shall I.
And become like a silhouette
to watch all life drift by,
and reliving in every moment
never stopping to ask why.
Pushed there by flowing currents
and the wind's most gentle roar,
I fade away like the golden sun
glint silver waves upon the shore.
There is a lady all dressed in light,
who stands above the jagged shore at night.
To guide the sailing ships to safer seas
and beg the wicked storms for calmer breeze.
She ever shines her light across the bay,
in hopeful search for love that sailed away.
He left the land with plans to bring back gold,
to ask her hand to wed, the story's told.
When his ship met with tempest gales,
the waves ripped the hull, wind stripped the sails.
The lady waits at night for him on shore,
as he still lays with gold on ocean floor.
Sometimes you see her lonely light afar,
it shines in the sky like a distant star.
12/16/18
I will love you forever
To my last breath
Until I'm sleeping
The sleep of death
And when I rise
On Heaven's shore
I will exist only
To love you more
Forever My Love Valentine Poetry Contest
Sponsored by : BJ Legros Kelley
1/2/2022
It's the summer of my fourth year.
Dad is driving us to the seashore.
The sun follows us, a happy fellow,
beaming in the mid-morning’s azure sky.
In the back seat with my two sisters, I’m looking out the window
as I crunch on Mom’s homemade salty Chex Mix,
anticipating the warmth of salt spray
from the waves I’ll be jumping on this beautiful day -
Life is a beach not yet even in my vocabulary.
We are now at the shore, a large blanket laid out,
Mom with her bright red hair tied back with a brighter red check scarf,
and my dad, dark-haired and handsome, smiling.
So rare is this happy countenance he wears today!
For a while I sit as if entranced, watching the waves roll in.
But eventually, and predictably, my joy ebbs like the tide.
Dark clouds are gathering; gray begins to envelop the sky.
I look over to my dad; the gray has recaptured his face.
In the vanishing sunlight, familiar dark thoughts invade my mind -
Dad, can I see you be happy just once for a whole day?
Rain . . . always it rains when we go to the seashore.
.
You were skipping stones
and as I watched
a slowly arching ripple
gently kissing the shore
I found myself wishing
I was that ripple
and you were that shore
If my mind were a sea,
on one of its shores,
dreams would drift to me each night,
sometimes as beautiful as silken sand.
Also I might dream awake. In a contemplative state,
I feel the need to take waves of creative thought
and form them into phrases and then verses
which come together lyrically, constructed carefully
with rhyme and rhythm and other poetic devices.
These are the sandcastles of my mind.
On rare occasions, I discover
beautiful and genuine pearls of thought
inside my dreamy sand.
I fashion them into the best of my poetry.
These are my treasures that I keep safest
while most of my dear castles get swept away
as if by the ocean's tides,
not to be viewed by anyone ever again.
The times when my sea's tides run dry,
then my mind eventually creates tempests
which bring onto my sandy shore
feelings of despair or disappointment.
Rushing to me with bluster, they might rage.
More likely, they stir my soul with melancholia.
At these times, verses roll forth from my mind
free of meter or of rhyme.
If my mind were the sea,
I would hope for waves of creativity
to ever flow onto
my shore of dreams.
An empty boat pulled up upon the shore
Would slide back into water if it could.
But if it has at some time lost its oar?
Well, just more doldrums that must be withstood.
It’s hard to let go what you love to do,
Especially what you were meant to be.
The river ever flows out of our view.
Our present quickly becomes history.
That doesn’t mean you’re no longer a boat!
Don’t ever let them say you have no worth!
From the beginning you were made to float,
And there is nothing else like you on earth!
So sit now, reminisce upon your shore…
And ponder what the future has in store.
5/15/2019
Picture #2, Life Spent Alone
Choices Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
I STEP down from the boardwalk and into a land moved by the forces of the universe.
I feel the earth move under my feet as I walk on mountains crushed to grains of sand by these forces and the passing of time since the birth of planet Earth.
Ringing in my ears, beating in my heart, running through my veins - the thunder of an ancient drum as the ocean rises and falls to the will of the wind.
I mark my passing with footprints in the sand while my mind empties itself of everything but this moment.
I walk toward a purple line in the distance, yearning to know what is there...yearning to touch it.
I lean against a warm wind that blows away the ribbons from my hair and all the troubles of a world gone mad.
~~~
Moment-by-moment... time becomes a thing of the past as I reach for that purple line.
On and on and on - I walk to the beat of that ancient drum - through the wind and ocean brine - through the setting of the sun - ON AND ON AND ON. Still, its seems I'm no closer to that line.
~~~
As the moon begins to rise, I turn back.
~~~
My morning footprints have all disappeared. The forces of the universe have erased every trace, I was ever here.
I STOP... and look up at the moon and all the uncountable stars that hang there ... motionless among the endless galaxies, over an ocean now at rest.
AND IN THIS MOMENT... I AM ONE WITH ALL THERE IS...AS I STARE INTO
THE FACE OF GOD.
~~~
Written: February 17th, 2016
Elaine Cecelia George of Canada
The sea shore, where thoughts become untied,
and the spirit yearns with its ebb and flow,
watching the sun cut across the horizon like a dull knife,
as the day moves through time to the color red.
There between amber light and rendered dark,
waves allow silence to dwell.
Asking the mind to describe the indescribable,
where senses are lost,
and welcomed scenes of birds silhouette across,
a rainbow sky bending to the horizon.
The coolness of wet sand wraps around the skin
as you glide through soft foam.
and the undulating of each wave wells up,
to end at the feet before pulling back,
leaving a sense of eternity.
To stay, to cross into twilight where stars beckon,
leaving trails upon the sky, as though a match was struck,
bring secrets woven by the moon's light,
dripping on the black water surface,
like a crown of crusted jewels to welcome a lonely traveler.
As the imprints left by the day wash out to sea.
Contest The Sea Shore
1/30/16
sparkling dancing sea waves touch the shore with flowing magic
of cobalt blue filaments that reflect the sky above
oh endless the huge expanses of pristine shoreline
and the jagged seaward cliffs where cormants and auks nest
wild deep and cold oh restless the rising tide . . .
a cool wind whips off the sea and gulls call
the fishing pier lonely of fishermen this morn'
boardwalks a vast emptiness
foraging albotrosses glide then plunge into the sea
sea waves crashing on weathered rocks in an endless rolling
gentle foaming changes to wild thunder
and yet serene the sea shore view to me
I stayed with the crashing till the last rays of sunset
that fringed the horizon then dipped and fell . . .
and in the moonlight the shore is darkly elusive
with hidden life and I drink the tranquility
this mysterious vastness of endless sand and views
and always in the background those unending waves
caressing
the sea shore . . .
___________________________
February 1, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/The Sea Shore
Copyright Protected, ID 16-750-997-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, The Sea Shore
Sponsor, Craig Cornish
Honorable Mention
For now, I know you've quietly gone
Leaving my emotions in sad silence
In lonely consent and a grayer dawn
My loneliness asks of me compliance
I spend each breath walking an empty shore
Tracing faded steps we made by the sea
Left to the din of life I hear no more
The dark has come and its pain I must flee
The clouded horizon seems closer now
And tides are rising to wash away time
With their churning ripples that slow somehow
To pull back when my pain begins its climb
The lost glow from our last evening's sun
Leaves me alone as the night has begun
12/22/17