Long Seahorse Poems
Long Seahorse Poems. Below are the most popular long Seahorse by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Seahorse poems by poem length and keyword.
Waves pushed a torrent of power and might.
Against the tiny creature seemingly lost in the night.
With only the moon to navigate her path,
Little seahorse galloped—
Giddy up—giddy up—
Hungry suitors let her pass, tonight peace without wrath.
Hippocampus—was her genus, a clever equine design.
Upright she rocked, the shallow temperate sea brine.
With back and forth swiftness, and straight ahead scurry,
Little seahorse galloped—
Giddy up—giddy up—
Her love patiently waiting, she approached in a hurry.
Bequeathed to but one, her monogamous beau.
His sack carrying offspring, soon released in the flow.
She focused on him, and the time now at hand,
United they galloped—
Giddy up—giddy up—
Till they stopped in the moonlight, and knelt in the sand.
Together they witnessed their family emerge.
Dad’s brood pouch and safety, quickly empty and purged.
Fully formed miniatures, resembling Mother and Dad,
A thousand new seahorses now galloped away—
Giddy up—giddy up—
The obscurity of sea grass, their new life’s launch pad.
Camera
Once I found a camera, swept up
on a beach. I picked seaweed off
it like strands of hair, unwashed.
A crab’s claw, no body of note,
clasped the shutter as if protector,
a titan from the deep: the memories
caught within secret. The screen flittered and
buzzed, popped into life and suddenly
I was married - a wife, brown skinned, plaits down to shoulder,
and had children - twins, sobbing eyes clenched against a flash.
I’d painted a nursery - cot, blinds, seahorse mural,
and cooked Christmas lunch – steam frozen above a turkey, crackers caught in a silent bang.
Before the light fizzled and faded, before that life dimmed,
I’d swum with dolphins too,
held a sunset, liquid orange balancing, inside a palm;
even snapped the inside of a backpack, contents blurred.
The screen dissolved. I returned it to the sea,
but not before adding one empty click of me.
The sandy beach
thins into a wash of rounded pebbles
where the tide licks,
before that a muddy ribbon
trickles briny trinkets surged up
from the oceans bottom.
Here be the bones of tiny seahorse dragons,
and bloated macroscopic marine algae,
their seaweed green strands inflated
until the sun bakes
their pale upturned pods into pyrite beads.
Fractured mollusk shells splinter the broken claws
of minuscule crustaceans -
all the natural flotsam of debris trawling waves.
A sculptured driftwood expressed into mythic forms
anchors its art where the wind combs.
Sometimes coins, both new and old, surface
to be pocketed once more.
Obscure metallic treasures knuckle
and poke-mark the shoreside
with their unanswered questions.
I have no questions, walking the dawn light
I am a shipwreck, my mind roaming
along the shores edge.
My heart a seagulls cry, a wilderness call
that keeps me fishing for new depths
of a fathomless self.
The shoreline is the diary,
the tide keeps rewriting.
Each ebb a retreat
to revise again,
what the last wave wrote
in memory.
Its dry high-tide margins
filled with salt crystals
driftwood, seaweed,
empty shells,
and half-erased footprints
left there,
long after,
the water had receded.
An autobiography
written in flood and ebb
returning.
Each tide signing in
with a different hand,
leaving behind
only what the sea
could bear to lose.
Never mind what the shore
begged to keep.
Enough to remember
what passed this way,
but never enough
to know why.
The beach recalls
each wave differently,
never the same.
Leaving
shell grit,
kelp knots,
weathered glass,
old toys,
bottle caps,
bird feathers,
seahorse skeletons
and empty whelk spirals
holding the hush
of vanquished seas
pre-recorded.
The emptiest beaches
collect the best stories
after a storm has passed.
There's nothing left to ask
only what the wind forgot to mention
in departing hand-in-hand
with the ebbing tide.
For the sea cannot leave
without taking part of the
shore it knew before,
out offshore with it.
Nor return without leaving
another handwritten
goodbye note,
on the last page,
with what the last tide
could not quite erase.
If I could live under the sea
I would marry my sweet mermaid Shelly
Oh how happy the two of us would be
Swimming forever in the deep blue up to the brimme
The fish would wish they could be us
For we could survive in sea to shore
The world be our oyster overstuff
With pearls her I adore
Sunken treasures of the past
We could explore but ignore
Our love enough for us to last
For free is the sea forever more
Choral gardens rich in life
Colors glow from sunbeams light
Ride the waves no worries or strife
Moonbeams spiral into our night
With a roof of water over our heads
Safe from storms let them blow
Huddle and cuddle in the octopus's bed
Asleep to dreams that flow
The shark's all bite, the whale has tales
The otters play, the crabs are crabby
The dolphins laugh, the old squid smells
The penguins dance, the walrus is flabby
The seals bark, the eels glow
The shrimps are shrimps, the seagull steals
The lobster diets, the seahorse was rode
And the porpoises were all pale
Just a day benaeth a wave
For my Sweet Shelly and me
Happy to be married to a meramid
With baby mermaid soon to be
Large boulders piled high
stretch out into the bay
and form a breakwater
that shields the beach
from high waves
and heavy swells rolling in
from southerly gales.
I have stood there
at the end when the sea
was hurling its rage
and all fury exploded
like bomb bursts of watery
shrapnel into the air.
I have seen such power
subside and tamed
to compliant licks
around the feet of rocks.
More than forty years ago
on a deep breath
I snorkeled down its ledges
into the rock strewn and weedy
world that lay at its base,
places where stingrays slept
and where fish glided
effortlessly along crevices
and over sponge
covered outcrops.
I cradled a fragile seahorse
in my trembling hands.
I no longer have
the confidence to rock hop
its length to the end
but stand where it butts
the land, commanding memory
to whip up a wind
and set wave upon wave
to awaken a soul
from its sleep
and make it feel
the sting of a southerly gale,
wet, cold and wonderful,
once again.
Wolf.
Puma.
Long-necked (or was it
long-bodied?)
Dragon.
Forest...Fire.
A Bunny, cute -
and on its back.
A Bounding Fox
with Seaspray Fluff
of Following Tail.
A long-nosed Fellow
bearing bulbous eyes;
grown wider with surprise
at the Cloudball gone:
teetering off from said
Nose.
A Wingsuit Aerialist
falling bellylong into
greens below. Laughing.
An Otter, now -
popped up from (,some-
how,) a Prairie Dog’s hole.
Over the Water Gap.
A profile, of
a Presence’s Silouhette
but with lip backlit...
and Chin. About to
Smile in the foreground
of...a
...Waterfall of Light.
Curiously, a Bighorn Seahorse Sheep.
I drive.
Press on.
I drive.
Look up.
I drive.
Clouds drift. I drive.
Swept by waves of nostalgia
Afloat on longing tides
I assessed this oyster compound
where my heart could not abide.
Aphrodisiac pulls of Neptune
were as lava cooled to stone
What use were pearls of luster
when one had no collarbone?
Heralded by sea trumpets
kelp banners flying high
Sentinels of sea urchins
with pink coral by their sides
Calamity, with determined madness
shoved sponges from his path
Provoked by clam injustice
Spurred by mollusk wrath.
I searched for an escape exit
from that cruel, moronic clam
This myriad ideology,
naught but an oyster sham.
When a seahorse bobbing aimlessly
moved closer to my side
I unhinged my oyster carapace
and grasped its roughened hide.
I was jolted and I was jostled
as I settled on its back
Calamity watched in amazement
standing frozen in his track
When an agitated octopus
released an ink black kite,
a galaxy of starfish
sank into the brackish night.
I focused my attention
on my lost and nervous steed
We were climbing ever upward
at a most alarming speed
Breaking through the surface
I swallowed back a scream
Afraid of finding Calamity
I found it all had been...a dream.
Mother started her journey home today
where Dad stands, waiting with open arms
in the sunsets meeting of the oceans glare.
I stood by the shore, the water so clear
waiting for the message the dolphins bring near.
Has she made it; did they greet? Little
dolphin, is her journey complete?
The seahorses are guarding the Sailor in delight
the maiden was brought home by the dolphin's
side. For them the coral is glowing in splendor sight,
the waters are warm as they hugged tight.
No more loneliness he promised her as she held him
close not another word was heard. They have united
once again and now their new journey begins.
Thank you, beautiful soul, for you have made my heart
happy and once again whole. Beautiful dolphin, the messenger
of the Sea, someday I myself will be with the sea.
While whispers shush on sheltered shores, as soon the cockcrow quakes,
the seas descry a skittish sky, sense summer zephyrs wake –
roused passions neath the sunrise pulse, the whitecaps throb and ache.
Along the crests crawl shallow shades the soaring sun effaces
and rains in streams enhance the dreams that fantasy embraces
while ocean sprays of yesterdays reveal forsaken faces.
The midday sun has slowed its run, a shrinking puddle steams,
between the knells of shattered shells drift soaring seagulls’ screams –
the beauty wends but never ends, or so it surely seems.
At dusk a ruddy disk descends, the skyline's furnace burns
and neath the swells where Neptune dwells, an undercurrent churns –
a seahorse hides and seaweed bides until the tempest turns.
While twilight hosts the winds with ghosts of barbed electric spangles,
a mermaid braves the crashing waves adorned with starfish bangles –
her spirit yearns in twists and turns entwined in rockweed tangles.
As seven stranded seamen scan the dimple-dappled moon,
a brace of surly Sirens serenade a lonely loon –
the breakers pound and sometimes sound a melancholy tune.
Soon gales ignite the briny night and rip the skies askew
with zigzag teeth flashed deep beneath a blazing bolt tattoo –
storms, spent, subside in ebbing tides, then all begins anew.