Long Boardwalk Poems

Long Boardwalk Poems. Below are the most popular long Boardwalk by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Boardwalk poems by poem length and keyword.


Summer

Summer
The best season
No other can compare
To sunny days and starry nights
That summertime brings forth
It’s so awesome
     Summer

    Summer
How does it sound?
Like drinks poured over ice
The jingle of an ice cream truck
Bees buzzing, waves breaking
Children splashing
    Fireworks

     Summer
How does it look?
Like cloudless skies of blue
The children in line for ice cream
Colorful garden fruits
Family trips
    The beach

     Summer
How does it feel?
Like moist heat on my skin
The sand squishing between my toes
Morning dew on the grass
Cool rain puddles
    Perfect

     Summer
How does it taste?
Like burgers on the grill
Chocolate s’mores and marshmallows
Tropical Popsicles
Cotton candy
     Ice Cream

    Summer
How does it smell?
Like backyard barbecues
Coconut lotion on my skin
Saltwater in the air
Boardwalk goodies
    Fresh Fruit

    Summer
What does it mean?
Family vacations
Great photo opportunities
Beautiful Memories
Fun water play
    Summer
 06/02/2021
Written for Heptastich Poetry Contest
Sponsored by William Kekaula
Form: Verse


Premium Member Silver Wake of the Moon It

Eerie boardwalk creaks near the white sand beach

As I step down, dig my feet in cool sand.

Fantastic sense till inebriated

Pleasing weaving movement arises, as 

The label I hide on the wine bottle.

Empowering silence of moonlit night.

Goodnight moon and your self-isolation,

Goodnight stars surviving need to exist,

Goodnight everybody so desperate

Welcoming interaction,  impending

Sabbatical dreams after quarantine.

Months of lock-down stress; does anyone care?

Droll song , in the silver wake of the moon

They told me of the psycho cat's demise.

9/28/2020
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Machine Want in Crystal Balls

Beneath the carnival lights,
where fortunes danced and swayed,
a prophet sat behind a glass screen,
dressed in a turban, and bright brocade.

A coin slipped in and woke the oracle.
With a clang, a click, a beat of drum,
A bottled genie deep within was stirred,
Our fate was sprung; our fortune opened, revealed.

The glowing eyes knew every face,
every dream the heart held dear;
every wish, every need, every want fulfilled,
was printed on a tiny card, and then expelled.

The years rolled on; the tents came down.
The boardwalk halls all closed down.
Yet the hunger for prophecy foretold remained,
in modern shrines, in glowing glass enclosed.

The prophet's turban turned to code,
Its gears and wheels changed to circuit chips.
Eliza, Claude and Gemini said: "I'm here to help".
All clad in Zolta's turban, gear and fab disguise.

From Zoltar's gears to silicon dreams,
we've always asked screen oracles for help.
To see our fortunes unfurl, and be revealed,
in the swirl of mist in dark crystal balls.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member At the Pawnshop

(written to go with the tune of "Under the Boardwalk")

Oh, when you’re strapped for cash, and your rent is coming due.
If you gambled badly, and your bookie now is after you,
Down at the pawnshop, you need to be, yeah,
Where there’s laptops, old comic books and fine jewelry.

(Refrain)
At the pawnshop. Oh, what great fun!
At the pawnshop. You can see lots of guns.
At the pawnshop, buyers look all around.
At the pawnshop, losers look at the ground.
At the pawnshop…. pawnshop!

If you’re soon to wed but can’t afford an expensive ring,
It’s the place to go; they don’t deal in really cheap bling bling.
Down at the pawnshop, you need to be, yeah,
Where there’s laptops, old comic books and fine jewelry.

(repeat refrain)

Check out the song I had in my mind at this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjD0Ne3CuaY
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Walking By the Lake

Such a good day for a walk
here in my favourite countryside
many times walked this pathway
blessed memories in my mind confined

All set with a rucksack on my back
walking boots fitting my size eleven
scarf and gloves at the ready if cold
this scenery is earth's pic of heaven

Now walking along the water's edge
so stony in parts, watch my step
there's a toilet at the hotel nearby
before going on in between the hedge

Halfway walk across the boardwalk
with a couple of bridges along the way
the scenery is truly spectacular
one wants this forever and a day

Now stepping out homeward bound
with a few hills and bumps to cross
but gazing over the water to the other side
so still makes one ponder to hear a sound

Well passing by the boatyard maker
now walking on flat land, feet so sore
glad to reach back into the town square
make tracks soon be at my own front door!
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Inner Sanctuary

The world is turning furious and fast,
A story told in storms and sighs,
But I have left the shoreline of my past
And all the hollowness of my eyes.
Let others count the letters in the stone
And hug the coldness of a distant sign;
I found the boardwalk where You made Your throne,
And reached across the dark to gather mine.
Now take this weary heart and fold it deep,
Where mercy runs too thick for words to measure,
Past every promise that I couldn't keep,
Into the gold of Your unchanging treasure.
Oh, pull me closer than the breath I breathe,
Enfold the center till the boundaries break—
A multi-layered cocoon of pure relief,
Where love is all that stays alive, awake.
No curb can hold the bruises of the throw,
No winter chills in the nesting of Your wing;
I simply walk the way the wind will blow,
And let the silent heart begin to sing.
Wrapped up in You, with mercy all around,
The storm can roar against the outer sea
But in the middle, on this sacred ground,
There’s only Jesus, and the rest of me.
Form: Rhyme

Find Places For Meditation

Find places for meditation,
a strawberry path leading
to mysterious backwoods...
hear the woodpeckers
drilling through bark,
how frightening they are at dusk!


Meet the jolly woodscutter
gathering the fallen trunks
of cherry oak for a winter's fire...
or for furniture like coffetables and desks;
have you ever seen his fine workmanship? 


Find places for meditation
on a breezy shore in early evening,
marvel at the spectable 
so radiant and soothing, quenching
your spirit as woodwinds start a quadrille!


No witless clown is allowed
to spoil the fun of beachgoers, humor pravails
and draws crowds to the boardwalk;
catch the glow of wonder on every kid's face...
as those clowns amuse and deliriously laugh!


Find places for meditation,
in the quitest cathedral or chapel to revive your entity,
and prayers murmured by the sof-glowing candles
renew your belief and trust in the Almighty...
in such a holy place, angels are found by the thousands!


Extreme peace overhelms your thoughts of victorious love
exulting in the vespers' hymns played by the loud organ
above the incense-burning altar of glacial marble;
humbly pray and flee incertitude and damnation...
the incantation is being broken and incapacitated by your will!


Find places of meditation
by a  calm river feeding its waters to the distant sea,
making your vessel of hope reach it's destination;
someone will wait to board it and start a stupendous dream;
and dream you must to end your string of defeats!

Pallet Palace - It

Spongy brown fingers quenched by gentle tide
Eerie boardwalk creaks near the white sandy beach*
Lapping crystal mix of silt risen rush
Injects me with lovely imaginings
Purrballs scooping milk with ridgy cupped tongues

I'm zebra confined, house stripes shade on sun
Pallet paradise by the pier, free rent
Fat foot kids trample, rudimentary rods
Raised to find fish among pungent mangroves
The label I hide on my wine bottle*

Some ask can they come into my cubby
I wander off, tell them sure, it's all yours
Kids are too big, -  I like them less than cats
They told me of the psycho cat's demise*
Psychotic in my absence, poor purrballs

A busy home befitted me, writhing
With action, scratching, litters, loud implores 
Wrapped leg tailed affection restored meaning
Virus had no impact, purr friend Kingdom 
Council had no business disrupting us

Sabbatical dreams after quarantine* 
Let me sit again amongst my purrballs
Families leave with their buckets fishless
Within woody walls, water tint glass green
I lay blanketed by fish fattened cats 

Piled purposefully, though haphazardly 
On rocking vessel built of curved pallets 
Bobbing on mangrove mazes burgeoning 
With seafood delights no can can contain 
Vino voyages bring my purrballs back



6th September 
Collaboration Poetry Contest 
Sponsor :         Kim Rodrigues 

I own only a phone, with no font change
capacity, may edit to bold if I get to a PC. 
* end of lines marks the prompts given.
Form: Verse

Premium Member About Love

Everything about Love is fascinating; 
Love at first sight; love that lasts forever; 
Love that kills: winter, fall, summer and spring.
Everything about Love has an element of fever
In it: the anger, the rage, the jealousy, 
The scorn, the disgust, the dishonesty, 
The deception … etcetera, etcetera.
It is a timing bomb that can explode at the blink of
An eye, or implode momentarily at the crank
Of a gun. Love can be unexpectedly deadly, 
Beautiful, joyful, sweet … etcetera, etcetera.

Everything about Love is controversial: 
The lazy days of summer on the boardwalk, 
And the romantic promenade in the park.
Everything about Love is exceptional: 
The beauty of the kissing and hugging swans, 
And the tenderness of caressing hands.
Everything about Love is beyond words: 
The lilies at springtime, the singing birds 
During the summer, the ice-skating children
During the wintry season, and in autumn, 
The dead leaves in the Garden of Eden.
Everything about Love is beyond words.
Everything about Love can be either sane
Or insane. Love can be fascinating, 
Controversial, exceptional, and disgusting.

Copyright © February 2012, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

Premium Member Son of a Beach

For as long as I can remember,
the months of May through September,
have always been the most enjoyable for me.
If you wonder, it is easy to see.
I love the boardwalk, the sun, and the beach.
Summer fun has always been in reach.
My friends and I in an old beat-up Ford
would drive down to the beach with a surfboard.
Pleasant past thoughts I would reminisce,
as long as dive-bombing seagulls continued to miss.
Those were among the memories of yesterday.
However, little has changed up to today.
The season at the beach is especially nice
with girls in bikinis and Italian water ice.
With cool breezes, the surf, and the sand,
no other scenery can be as grand.
I am older now, but it does not matter to me.
I still enjoy every bit of the scenery.
Form: Rhyme

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