Long Snorkeling Poems
Long Snorkeling Poems. Below are the most popular long Snorkeling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Snorkeling poems by poem length and keyword.
Tsunami
Clinging to a tree my might is numb
Teeth chattering, soaked in seaweed I succumb
to the shores of doom, the tides violent surge
Adrift and marooned all owed to a sudden urge
After the party I woke up on a tropical island
Wild rainforest and coconut groves, tailor made in Thailand
The Turtle Island, underwaters heaven
We were seven, gone snorkeling the night before
None of which were ones who washed ashore
I heard scrambling voices from below
less those who didn’t survive the deathblow
Lungs spewing up ocean water, not the timeless turquoise,
but the stormy muddled wash, murky, writhing wildly
sirening a crushing noise
Twigs, glass, and storms debris rips through skin
Blood seeps down red rivers running thin
soaked thoroughly, bringing shivers
As tidal waves and ruthless rain cease their wells,
instinctively the islanders help each other through
the fallen landscapes
As the beached turtles struggle in their shells,
who once glided effortlessly in the sea
I know what I must do
Keep with the spirit of aloha
and stay until the sky becomes blue
Then set the turtles free
The cool water wraps around my skin,
A world unknown about to begin.
I pull my mask and snorkel tight,
And step into the crystal light.
The mangroves tangle thick and high,
Where roots meet sea and meet the sky.
Below their fringe, the clear depths fade
To secrets hidden in the shade.
With slow and steady flipper kicks,
I drift where calm and quiet mix,
Gliding across the peaceful cove,
Through shallow halls of the turquoise grove.
A sudden glint catches my eye,
I pause....suspended....drifting by.
Just inside the mangrove's gloom,
Where heavy shadows quietly loom,
A barracuda, grand and still,
With silver coat and spotted thrill,
Hangs suspended, dark and bright,
Watching through the filtered light.
I gently float and keep my space,
Passing softly without a trace.
Further on, a vibrant sight,
A dance of vivid, sudden light.
Two parrotfish in ocean grace,
Belonging to this secret place.
The male twirls round the female's nest,
In brilliant hues, he shows his best,
A flash of neon, green, and blue,
Where life begins and starts anew.
No fish had ever come so near,
Through glassy waters, calm and clear;
Their colors rich, their silver bright,
A glimpse of pure, divine delight.
Creation’s wonder, deep and still,
Reflecting such a quiet skill.
And as I leave the sea behind,
This magic stays within my mind,
Etched deep within my mind and heart
Is a living vision, set apart.
this was written after a day of snorkeling off mile marker 14 in Maui
Dominated by destinations and schedules
I can only look ahead.
Forward to 14.
We must park, we must mark ours.
I must govern us by order if we are to enjoy all.
Positioning my sundries I cannot help to see Her.
Wisps of hair caress her face.
Joy radiates within.
A carefree smile is cast my way
and it awakens me from my parental coma.
Summoned by her beauty I walk to the shore
The water seems cold, but I yearn to obey.
And her desire for me frees me from my coma.
Shells crush beneath our feet
as we walk side by side into the water.
The water is not cold: I am warm.
Water refreshes my face as we submerge into the water.
We venture to deeper regions seeking adventure.
Sight is stimulated by color, movement, and shapes unknown.
That is when She reaches out for my hand.
That is when she squeezes my hand.
Adventure beckons.
A coral garden teeming with vibrant colors and shapes.
Fish both large and small conversing with one another.
These are the sights that captivate us.
And as we explore into the matrix of this garden
we are honored with the appearance of a great beast
gracefully swimming towards us.
A current turns us towards the shore
with the passing of the turtle,
and the squeeze is released.
The adventure does end.
We must return safe.
We must find our plot.
I must direct us back safe.
A familiar sensation returns to me.
It is my parental coma summoning me back.
I shall return willingly for my sleep will be illuminated
with the imagery of Her innocent beauty.
My dreams shall be sweetened
with the memory of that squeeze
Bright blonde-haired girl
competitive
From the start, made a nine
Mile ride
With a spirited heart, straight
to the
Summit of Telegraph Hill, I’ll
guess
She freewheeled back ‘just for
the thrill’
A gifted person, with a giving
heart
A literate future ‘to be’ in life
her part
A maritime yen, her soul
would hold
Sailing, snorkeling, diving in
waters
Weather hot or cold
A present in fiction she gave
to this world
Plots and intrigues in
Atlantis unfurled
Loved her John, lived to the
full, help for
Others in her will so loyal
gave fans her all
Lived in Florida, she loved it
there, would
Relate to others of its when’s
and where’s
To St. Augustine she made
foray, taking my
Advice; I’m oh so glad she
enjoyed the stay.
Poetry in whispers a favourite
place on
Soup she’d pen with style and
grace
Haiku, idyll, rhyme, sonnet,
prose.
Carolyn, we miss you, but none
can stay
This earth is finite all here
fades away.
Your talent is blending, way
Above where
Death is not, amidst eternal
Love
Keep us in your thoughts we
wish today
That we may meet where time
has no sway
A greater bond we’ll share there
new
The deeper depth the truer
true.
©Joe Maverick 16-8-2021
Shh, surrender silent sorrows.
Subconsciously slip into stillness,
sedately surrounded in serenity's song.
Slumber satisfied, slithering softly between
silky soap scented sanitized sheets.
Soak up summaries of summers spent splashing at
seashores, sandles sifting through salt scented sand,
as sapphire skies shine splendidly.
Scores of silver seagulls soar stunningly
above saltwater seaweed scenery.
Suddenly snorkeling with seahorses,
you somehow become the studied subject.
Swimming in submarine schools, scarcely secluded,
you become someone's significant someone.
Spryly spinning synchronously side by side
someone special, sprinkled in sentimentality,
speaking shrouded sounds,
you shift seamlessly into sound sleep.
"Speak some sense slower," some seahorse shrieks.
Sensibly speak shrouded sounds slower, softer,
so she can sleep sometime soon.
2/9/2020
" Tortured metaphors
spilling from tequila lips,
t i p t o e on my pulse ~
breaking in an arced smile
of the featherless eclipse,
where I waltz as a secluded steel-shine,
sobered s o f t l y
by the taste of satanic stars..."
I'm the loss of a leaf
from gold-dew aspens,
rippling upon
turquoise typewriters,
where drunk fingertips dance.
Turning to ashes,
my heart m e l t s
as a metallic grenade,
and no philosopher's stone
ever reverberating
in its silver-winged silence.
Seeking shelter from smoldering seas,
I curl up in the womb of a guardian willow ~
she's a weeping angel of n e v e r l a n d,
with an ornamented garland
of guns and roses,
enveloping me in the corpse of sunset.
Plunging from diamond cobwebs
into isles of champagne,
like a dynamite dove bloodthirsty for sun,
I l u r k along reefs
studded with rhinestones, unfurling –
lotus manuscripts
as poetic pearls s l i p and t w i r l,
snorkeling in an obsidian oasis.
I miss being
a purple-whisper prophecy,
threaded in fractured letters,
for now, my ink b l e e d s
in the marrow of moon,
where an alchemy is lost and found...
In the chronicles of carnelian clemency
and supernova sorcery,
I've seen arctic assonances
hibernating
in the throats of those,
holding lethal jewels
as a nightingale's neon noose.
So, if my soul is an opal widow
of your thistle-light affection,
a verse romanticised
will be my crystal coffin,
and in the caricatures
of kohl and karma,
our silent soliloquy
shall delicately be shifted.
Surfing in the splitting s i n s
of a salty saviour,
this whiskey damsel
shall evermore remain
a scentless phrase,
scrapped by pencilled brush-strokes,
i n v i s i b l e
in our paper-cut destiny...
We set sail as Reggae music played out on the Lido.
Our first night was casual; no need for tuxedo.
We could eat a pizza by the Windows On the Sea
or go beneath and dine on shrimp and meet the maitre d’
We could gamble, see a show, or just gaze at the ocean,
then in bed, relax the head and sense the soothing motion.
We woke up in Freeport where the ship would dock all day.
Folks could disembark, take tours, or on the ship just stay.
On board were people lounging or dancing to Calypso,
working out or shopping or even playing Bingo.
All day long you could find folks doing funny things
like contests for the men with hairy chests or knobby knees.
Day Two when we awoke, we were then in Nassau.
There was stuff for everyone, from your kiddies to your grandma!
Little ones could stay behind. The staff would entertain them,
or the kids could tag along with mom and dad. No problem!
Those who liked adventure could visit Blue Lagoon.
For snorkeling with sting rays, the boat left right at noon.
I got to pet a dolphin, but extra had to pay
to swim with one! That was sure an extra special day.
In town I got nabbed quickly by a plaza beautician.
Getting braids was all the rage, so people got their hair done.
We went to the gangway before the ship set sail.
Those not having fun by then were deader than a door nail.
“Day at Sea” arrived as the trip was winding down,
and the biggest night was coming; women wore a gown.
That final evening getting all dolled up to dine was when
I wished instead of ending, the trip would start again!
Gals and guys with braided hair; everyone looked nice.
Ah, the midnight feast with pretty sculptures carved in ice.
The ultimate for having fun unless you were just snoozing,
in the laid-back natives’ lingo, I say “Mon,” I sure loved that cruising.
(may not be following precise time line, but this was before year 2000 that I took my one and only cruise, so I'm a bit fuzzy on precise day by day details. it was a Carnival cruise only 3 to 4 days in Bahamas and back to Florida)
Feb. 1, 2022
for "My Favorite Vacation In Rhyme" Poetry Contest of L. Milton Hankins
Years ago I did so choose, to go on a Caribbean clipper ship cruise,
and, in addition to several other islands,
anchored off Nevis, northwest of Saint Kitts,
where, in the late 1780's, Nelson had lived,
and still bears traces of his presence today,
in various parts, pieces and bits.
When our windjammer Skipper informed us,
'Shopping here's good, snorkeling is bad,'
I avoided the former, sought out the latter,
and, as a matter of fact, a good time was had,
for no sooner had I ducked under,
two feet from the waterline,
in about one foot deep (shallow) water,
tho' visibility was, in inches, no more than nine,
I espied a white clay churchwarden pipe,
which I retrieved, broken, not whole,
with one third of the stem, and most of the tobacco-burned bowl.
1787, Nelson married the widow Fanny Nisbet on Nevis,
and, as the island he was about to depart,
'Desist smoking or else!'
Horatio may have heard her insist or impart,
and that which I found, I've a mind to say,
was his very last pipe, he'd reluctantly tossed overboard,
on that sunny day, when, as Captain of Boreas, he sailed away.
Let's toss some poets into a soup like a gumbo
to make a concoction of proportions quite jumbo,
with a variety of flavors, so delicious,
yet, for our hearts, minds, and spirits, highly nutritious.
Let's call this exotic concoction, PoetrySoup,
and then welcome that ridiculous Dave Crandall dupe,
with his oddball poems of distaste and aberrance,
making him grateful for everyone's forbearance.
Like a fly, I do the backstroke in this soup as I read
poems that sow beauty and happiness's seed;
or, snorkeling, I think hard as I dive down deep,
and devour a profound poem before I sleep.
My dream is to travel to Alaminos, Pangasinan
To experience and enjoy the splendor of The Hundred Islands
A famous tourist spot with long beaches and white sands
Clear emerald waters catering countless amusements and fun.
A national park with 123 to 124 islands at limestone formations
Green mushroom-shape each, great for island hopping in all seasons
In kayaking, snorkeling, ziplining, cliff diving… I won’t sojourn
I’ll stay in various areas from Lucap Wharf, my perfect destinations!
I’ll visit Pilgrimage Island to see Christ The Savior’s giant statue
And the Station of the Cross--- nice spots to worship under the sky so blue
I’ll hop more on popular islands for fresh air, capturing the magical view
Marcos’ Island has caves to explore by diving or paddling a canoe.