I would like to listen to the sound of bonfire sticks crackling as he chucks one on and the second he throws to a dithering dog-or the waves lapping on the shore steadily, a toddler’s toes dipping in that sea and then he screams and runs right away to his parents who are devouring literature upon the shore. They loyally guard his sandcastle then chide him for pushing his sister who had stumbled and fallen on that work of art. I’d like to watch the tide go in as picnic baskets are cleared away and the last of the suncream is lathered thick on children’s skin. I’d like to taste the locals' ice cream letting bristles of my hair stick to my face and needing a second as the first melted right away sullying my beach wear. I’d like to smell sausages almost charcoaled on the grill as children are as speedy as rockets with plastic plates at the ready. A summer living by the coast would be sure to enliven my spirit and cater for my senses.
As tingly lures, yet to view
Soul, Eternity
Bare flesh, the fathomless deep.
Alike mendably.
Lunenburg, small town.
Beckoning in warmer months,
Asleep in the cold.
Lunenburg, quiets.
Visitors venture homeward.
She's ours once more.
Lunenburg, silent streets.
The season has come and gone.
Through the cold we wait.
Lunenburg, warm sun.
The salt air guides you home -
visit, stay, welcome.
My town, salty air.
Smells, sounds, of industry gone.
Rejuvenated.
Beneath the moon's soft glow, a city thrives,
Where ocean waves caress the sandy shore.
In bustling markets, fresh-caught tuna lives,
A testament to fishers' ancient lore.
The beauty of nature surrounds us here,
From rolling hills to palm trees swaying free.
GenSan's spirit, both vibrant and sincere,
Reflects the splendor of land, sky, and sea.
One may see puffins and parrots
any hour of the week
both birds bear a big colourful beak
the former pelagic feed on fish
and live in large colonies on coastal cliffs
tho' monogamous collectively breed as a bunch
but with renown as the Atlantic sea clown
in Iceland several are served as lunch
the latter arboreal primarily frugivorous
toco being by far the largest
are opportunistic and occasionally omnivorous
to a few prudes it may seem unseemly or rude
and yet if they stick around they'll later get down
as their chicks are seen to hatch in the nude
these avians may fly high in the sky
have the same such things as two wings and legs
and of each species the female lays eggs
but that's where similarity does stop
one puffin can do more than toucan do
in more or less of a day
after mating its pecker turns grey
and without waiting its bill it will drop
She walks along a misty path humming yesterday's tears.
A breath of a thing, only promising to run in fear.
The sky cries when she walks into the open.
The flowers fade, knowing her love is broken.
His frosty lies left bruises on her dainty lips.
Her fragile hands still remember him.
Missing his ancient soul became her hobby.
Oh would you Look at her, such a lonely body.
Beneath the sun-kissed sky of Coastal California's domain,
Where Pacific waves meet the land, an eternal refrain.
Golden shores stretch along the rugged terrain,
A canvas painted with nature's utmost pertain.
Majestic cliffs rise with stoic grace,
Overlooking the ocean's vast embrace.
Seagulls glide on the breeze, a ballet in the air with grace
As the salty mist weaves tales without balance.
Beneath the azure sky, dolphins play,
With joyful leaps and flips, they lead the way.
Silhouetted against the sky so sunny,
Their laughter echoes, in a complete harmony.
Whales, majestic giants of the deep,
Gracefully traverse the waters, secrets to keep.
In rhythmic dance, their tails let tales slip,
Of distant journeys and ancient trails to keep.
Surfers ride the waves with skill and grace,
Chasing the rhythm of the ocean's embrace.
As the swell rises and the tide pulls in balance,
They become one with nature, in the Pacific’s embrace.
Written: November 19, 2023
________________________________________
I must plunge into the seafloor.
Out into the abyss of water and starry sky.
I utterly crave a lofty vessel. As waves roll ashore,
And the insight of the stars from high.
The wind symphony and the vortex spin
Yet the pearl sail is shaking within.
A murky haze veils the ocean's surface.
And the onset of a dismal dawn stirs us.
I must plunge into the seafloor.
Owing to the beckoning of an ebbing wave,
An erratic and yet obvious call before.
That might not be waived.
I'd settle for a breezy day.
As cotton clouds glide across the sky.
Sputtering fog and billowing spume
And the squawking of seabirds, I presume.
I must plunge into the seafloor.
Onward to the wandering gypsy life.
Trillions of years elapsed, and it is still pure.
Where the wind acts as a sharpened knife
The only thing I require is an ascetic tale.
Expressed humorously by a gypsy peer.
Restful sleep and lovely dreams prevail.
Finished the drawn-out mystical cheer.
Coastal ghosts
Out of the foam
when a mighty wave crashed ashore
came a pair of transparent
horses
flying mane of course
They were last seen
galloping
upland where the mist
was settling for the evening
Coastal ghosts
Out of the foam
when a mighty wave crashed ashore
came a pair of transparent
horses
flying mane of course
They were last seen
galloping
upland where the mist
was settling for the evening
At lowest tide, you shimmer at my feet,
fluid glass thinly glazes my squirming toes
Pacific respite from today’s prevailing heat
The cycle of waves, on and on it goes,
a watered source of lifeforms grand and small
Your mollusk, Pisces, star, survive and thrive,
‘neath waters dark and deep with cloud and squall,
Your oceanic underworld abides
Above, below, each day these worlds collide
Horizons far delineate both spheres
On liquid current surge the wild things ride
Our lives lived out, separately but here,
entwined by water, air, the sand, the sea,
where waves will pass and creatures come to be.
As centuries pass
The seas advance
To take away the land.
Lost to the waves
The ancient graves
Reside below the sand.
Cliffs that crumble
Remains lay humble
Eroded by the brine.
The final tomb
To meet the spume
Clings to the shoreline.
Dollop of the Sun
sugar sand sweetens the sea,
drink up coastal life.
Tan skin and smile lines.
Breakfast diners and strong coffee.
Soft breeze and salt-encrusted waves.
Lowered windows and strange songs.
Dripping ice cream and picnic tables.
Inside jokes and evening storms.
Good books and toes in sand.
All these things go hand in hand.
We parked on an old quay
Amidst a quaint coastal setting
Surrounded by platinum clouds
Minds soon interpreting
In poise our thoughts now action
Thralled by the essence of her perfume
No longer are we in said quandary
Now down to our birth costumes
Torso's dance in front seat tangle
Steamy windows our canopy hide
Oops! we've gone and hit the handbrake
Into the water our car now rides
Phew! within moments we disembark
Facing the actions of our cahoots
Penance our thoughts now interpret
All a quiver in our birthday suits
Written 18/02/2021
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