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Waves eroded the stones
on the shore line where
for ages the days and nights
had been subject
to the tides of the sea.
Such habits of the sea
the high tides
and low tides
make the hungry visiters
here caustious
they gather here in morning
to harvest the crustains
for breakfast
somemussels, periwinkles, limpets,
and oysters, naturally live and cling
to shoreline rocks in intertidal zonede
puration or purging
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Pateuxent County Md.
Silence
There's clamour all around me,
the roar won't let me out.
We have to hide ourselves away,
but we're it's chosen prey.
Yet touch silence,we must.
Though,at times, a void,empty,frozen ,falorn
or refuge for thoughts unwanted,thoughts despised
that cling like limpets to servile rock,
I hear the beauty of a longed for dream,
the burbling sound of a far off stream,
the secret spell of hallowed dawn.
Silence begs me in to cleanse my doubts,
to ease the pain of jibes and shouts.
To truly see,not journeyed hopes of A to B.
Just for one precious moment,cradle in your arms
that sweet nothingness.
Robert Parker
I'm not much attached to this body,
it feels like it's on a short leash
while the brain drags it around
like a reluctant old dog.
Long cantankerous years
have pummeled it into a shape
it never used to own, never saw coming.
I am by no means special
we all acquire these 'special' parts,
that cling to us like limpets and lichen
many are visible only to the mind.
Tree's show their scars on the outside
internal excrescences run deeper.
Wasted landscapes never repopulated
are sutured integral with still verdant fields,
still workable earth
but we know
that vehicles this unwieldy
have no fail-safe switch
even if we could find it.
We had most fun we have ever had on the River Boat Dell Queen
Cousins Limpets and the Hoppers, more than you've ever seen.
Frolicked, jet skied, threw our sisters and bros in the water.
What incredible fun for each grandson and granddaughter.
We have never seen you act this way, the littlest one said.
named Sheila, she belonged to Lilly Putin and son Ted.
We picked her up, swirled her and threw her in with a plunk.
Me too yelled a big cheese sandwich eater name of Big Thunk.
It was the craziest, most fun family reunion we had ever had
You can ask my most serious grand Uncle– Timothy Thad.
We were arrested, hauled away for our behavior that fine day.
Grandma said next time we won 't let those damned cops chase us away.
Morning mist like ghostly specter
Eddies and swirls in dizzying array
Hovering over ocean and dunes
I walk shrouded in mystery
Listening to the sound of waves.
Ebbtide slowly reveals
Kelp and small crabs entwined
Ocean has a particular smell
Provoking thoughts of the deep
Like distant horizon I know is there.
Rockpools entice curious minds
As morning sun burns mist away
Red sea anemones cluster
Sharing pool with razor clams
Desperate limpets cling to rock.
Turning, there are the sand dunes
Sculptured by a master's hand
Decades of nature's creativity
Marram grass gently waves
Quite beautiful in an abstract way.
Moss on the shaded ledge
spreads across the rooftop of the shed
gluing shut the shingles edge,
sun reflects the spurt
lemon yellows, lime green patchworks
gathered quilted coverlets of quirk;
willow limpets sweep away
residue of broken branch leaflets braised
browned and burnt by summer heated light rays;
suddenly the day becomes night torn
shadowu images stepping walkings formed
beneath the cloudy sky dark swarms,
hurricane gusts race then stop
wild and free tempests pops
sprawling in between every treetop,
earth below the storm
cools briefly from the chilly warm
and at last, breathe in the lulling calm.
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
Vashon Memories
A song to sing itself –
A birthing voice,
Shouting then whispering
Of fields and quiet harbors
Of blackberries and sunlight on smooth waters,
Of boredom, rest and restlessness
In tidal pools
Hunting hermit crabs and limpets,
Sticking on all fingers,
Avoiding jelly fish and barnacles
When pigtails and freckles
Fly through misty bracken fern,
Evergreen Madrone leaves,
Hemlock and the Douglas fir
Shading meadows
Of green apple trees,
Fat blackberries -
Huckleberries red and blue
Eluding nettles reaching out
To leave their sting
Then rest beside
Old logs
Wrapped in pitch
Stacked up by mischievous waves
To dot the shoreline
With drifting wood
Of mysterious shapes
On pebbled sands
Warmed in the welcomed sunlight
And drink in afternoon tea
Steeped in curiosity.
My grandparents had a summer home on Vashon Island. We would spend several weeks on the island during the summer.
Ha, ha! Fooled you. … This one's about a fish.
Well, ... almost, ... not really ... It's about a whale ...
They say a whale's a mammal; if so, I'm a fish
Then again, we Mr. Limpets should take care what we wish
Here's a fact: Cape Cod-type whale watches usually fail
While onlookers consume an ocean of lager and ale
So, remember when speaking of a neo-mammal like a whale
The larger the creature, the longer its tale
The timeless quantity of a pinnacle is palatable only to a plunging pliable posted picture. But posted pictures are neither explosive nor even emerging emery boards for boards are created to alight in chaos currents and who could ever really rely on a double decker train that is reliant upon trainers upon tracks in a momentum swerve. All must now nosedive into a pancake pile and take a kilo of ham, an array of lemons, and a mere teaspoon of sugar. Carry the ladle wisely at this time for ladles.are leaping limpets. And leaping limpets lining linkerage lean. Playful promises promised playing pudding puffed pine. No ha. Xxxxx complications xxxxx z at xerox point two on a mild bridge. X
Like limpets we cling on to the fading past
Via the present, connecting yesterday
Through to our tomorrows; memories last
Form links in the chain. Thoughts play
Sometimes drifting in and out of minds
And at others, rapid as an automatic gun
With bullet speed flashes which trigger all kinds
Of emotions, passionate, hot as a risen sun.
Memory is a fickle friend, do we recollect
The facts or do we remember them retold
Countless times until they fit what we select
To recount? The events becoming as bold
As vibrant youth, with energy that enhances
The retelling. Half forgotten feelings that erupt
Into a lava flow of words that take chances
With the actual event and can the truth corrupt.
The mists of time and memory meet and merge.
Unbidden by our will the vivid scenes play out
Rising from subconscious to fulfill the urge
To verbalise our histories. There is no doubt
We gain from these utterances of thought
That surprise us by their intense approaches.
Then into that memory we are sucked, caught,
Which by our retelling on today encroach.
The angry sound of rough and
raging april tide, as waves anoint
the awaiting rocky empty pools, as
limpets always clinging on to every
side, awaiting seagulls, anticipating Crustacean arrival
Sad eyed donkeys in line each waiting and hoping a
happy infant feeds a carrot each
Sandcastles are built on the empty
beach and knocked over by a
gang of senseless idiotic teenagers, already
chatting and deftly arranging dates and
times on their own phones, each
child of nature easily pleased again.
Con/Vow contest
For chasing the blues away
What better way is there
Than a walk on a sandy beach
With the wind in your hair
Watching the foam on the sea
As it’s whipped up by the wind
Imagining tunes being played
On the rocks as the wind skims
Limpets clinging to life
Immovable objects for sure
The seagull hoping some might fail
Falling to the shore
You can’t help but smile at the dogs
With the wind up their butts
Running in circles trying hard
To catch whatever is up
The funniest sights are the humans at play
Hanging on like grim death to the cord
As their kites swirl and sway
Trying hard not to swear as the wind
carries it away
Contest : Chasing the Blues Away
Dated: 31 January 2013
Watch the ripples of the water
The trickles sounding like laughter
As pebbles tickle its flow
Pools of delight with crabs inside
Limpets clinging on against the tide
Children's faces aglow
Now where does one start to write
To find the courage he has to pluck
And write a poem for a contest
It's all about things that suck
Out there, there are so many places
Where this word can always be used
There are octopuses in our seas
And their suckers are used so true
Even in the medical world
They use leeches to reduce blood swelling
Their active anticoagulant
Is a marvel in their telling
There are women of ill repute
Nothing like sucking on a sweet
A hard neck never deters them
Vampire bats do it to eat
There are others in the animal world
Yes, limpets when they grip their locked
And back to the ladies and ********
Yes the sweetie I meant was rock
Then there are the ones who are gullible
Like a vacuum they become sucked in
There is nothing wrong with the word suck
Using it, is never a sin
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