St. Maries de la Mer
Kate Sparks
April 9, 2026
Edited April 23, 2026
I walk the stone arc?of sacred remembrance.
At ancient Ra,?where salt marsh meets sea,?pilgrims remember?what the tide has known—?a boat without oars,?once found this safe harbor.?For forty days?and forty endless nights?we drifted unmoored.?Terns stitched the horizon,?sea to sky to shore.
Souls without anchor?wade into cold water,?strong hands guiding younger?to deeper currents,?their bodies tender,?their spirits trembling.?Sanderlings on the shore?scratch out a memory,?run, retreat,?enter again.
Waves that once pulled me under?now gentle at my feet.
Here I stand,
witness to a deeper awakening.
stranded on the beach
a wash of sand-orange blue-
brushmarks lost from view
colour gives away
in signature vivid hues-
picturesque and new
Boats at Saintes Maries -Van Gogh
Sea at Les Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer
Van Gogh sat staring at the choppy waters
Nothing yet? His brother asked. He did not reply.
He was in artist mode.
Picked up a brush and began
Splashing white capped waves
Hostile swirling wind especially above fishing boat
Angry storm began taking form
So angry the sails were gone from the boat
Van Gogh was in another world; he could hear no one
Bright titanium white horse emerged at the water’s edge
dark delivery wagon and loan figure made a solid contrast
Van Gogh began using wider curvier strokes,
blending one color after another in ombre fashion
His ideas coming faster and faster now
The sky began taking on new colors, new shades, new hues.
He added a reflection of the boat in the water
Five women waiting for their men on shore
A field of wheat leaning toward the west, torn up by the wind.
It was a furious painting, stormy and magnificent.
He painted this in 1888, the eight such painting
this year, and one of his favorites.
But of course he was not satisfied with it.
So he had to create another one.
It took our boys,
And turned them into men.
It raped our girls,
And made them pregnant with hate.
It took away the toys from our children's hands,
And taught them to toy with each other's lives.
Weapons are no longer made for wars,
But wars are made for weapons.
Leaders watch the nation burn,
So they can bask in the ashes.
Where do we head?
With necks denied their heads?
The blood is creating a red carpet in the roads,
So that a leader's shoes escape the dust.
But hands will shake,
Once the people are weak enough to be feasted upon once more.
The people shall be given a circus,
And soon they shall forget.
They shall come together,
Like scattered grains of rice,
So that the upper class can have a mouthful.
They shall bury the past,
But hold on to their hatchets.
They shall have a different script read out to them,
And a few Hail Maries, for all leaders come from God.
(A poem for Nigeria )
Elliepoet
re-post inspired by Constance constest
stranded on the beach
a wash of sand-orange blue-
brushmarks lost from view
colour gives away
in signature vivid hues-
picturesque and new
Boats at Saintes Maries -Van Gogh
SUSHI said salad-tary times
start bleeding tears
sushi fist-cup bloody-maries
Re[sweet]treating all the words
So sushi said;but i have a meal
and raw fish never jump
when i eat it Dead and Cold.
:: ~ ::
Do you believe in "Everlasting Love"
Love that gets two hearts to fly
Whispering words of love and sweet kisses
Magic and passion - wipe out all tears
Trust and truth without voice
As real shiny gold and green forests
The taste of love - surrounded in gold
no face can hide such feelings
Love, fate, romance will breathe forever
Linda Marie says it is: "Life Wheel -
breathing for eternity ..... "
- My thoughts about her poem: "Everlasting Love"
- Linda Maries heart was made of shiny gold !
- R.I.P.
06.02.2014
A-L Andresen :)
Sponsor:Andrea Dietrich
Contest Name:Remembering Linda-Marie: Tribute Poetry
Deadline:2/25/2014
(1st place in the contest)
February Funny Bone
I know a young lady so fine
Her good looks almost made me blind
I bought some dark shades
To cut down the glaze
And now that young lady is mine
Curtis Moorman
5 February 2012
For Linda-Maries contest
My hand strokes the Crystal Ball
I peer, as it fills with Mist
Then appears a Mushroom Cloud
I cannot see where
A child alone and crying
on a filthy run down street
A Military Tyrant
as he shakes his fist
A barren field, void of life
parched, the Earth is deeply cracked
But wait! Through the Mist I see
a Rose stands alone.
For Linda-Maries Crystal Ball contest
Copyright 2011 By Rd. Pickett
I don't claim to be an epicure
But there's one pasta dish that's sure
To get me to the table fast.
It's macaroni/beef goulash.
I make it with the small sea shells.
My tongue tastes of the little wells
Of tomato sauce that's found therein,
So tasty that it make me grin.
When I am tired and want to crash
A big bowl of my loved goulash
Will pep me up as it fills my tummy.
I love it because it is so yummy.
For Linda Maries pasta contest.
If there were a star that I could buy
a twinkling star up in the sky,
there's but one star so very high
shining brightly, do or die
To the Holy City, it shows the way
the brightest star, it is still this day,
I wish I might, I wish I may
to own this star to give away
I'd place it in sweet Marys hand
and wish us to the promised land,
to the very spot, where it all began
the Heavenly birth, of the Son of Man
David, is the name of the star
it can be seen from away,afar
we could travel there, no-one shall bar
to pray beneath, that Holy star
But, I don't have to buy that star you see
because David's there for her and me,
for with our Lord we'll always be
the gift, a star for her from me.
This is for Linda Maries ( Sweethearts) contest
Oh! What a journey
We have walked through fields of gold
And stood beneath starry nights
Moon dust in our eyes
specks still glowing on our tongues
And in our folds and creases
Do you remember?
The gardens at Montmartre
And those courtyards where we stayed
Oh! The memories
The Seashore near Saints Maries
I can almost feel her breeze
Do you remember?
The flower beds in Holland
A quilt of many colors
And the poppy fields
Swaying in a summer breeze
Under cloudy canopy
We have seen the world
You and I – through Vincent’s eyes
Etched forever in our souls
Now we come to rest
Here! at the end of the road
The shoes of Vincent Van Gogh
~~~
Author: Elaine George
stranded on the beach
a wash of sand-orange blue-
brushmarks lost from view
colour gives away
in signature vivid hues-
picturesque and new
Boats at Saintes Maries -Van Gogh
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Vincent_van_Gogh_-_Boats_at_Saintes-
Marie_watercolour.jpg
Stow Maries.
Wings of war like paper butterflies
once floated down upon this grassy plain
war machines of moments gone
honeysuckle and wild rose
now cling to silent buildings
empty shells of ghostly past
listen and hear within the broken walls
voices of those who came
to serve..to fly..to die.
a gentle breeze sings songs of
soldiers who sleep nearby
in churchyard graves
time passes and the horses hooves
race along the fields
primroses, snowdrops and bluebells
rejoice in a better time
but soon the dark days of another war
return and bring the iron machines
from out the skies
as drone of planes
fills the springtime air
black gases and polluted wrath
bring death to flowers
while buildings come alive
with sounds of fowl to feed a hungry nation.
the winds of war retreat and
memories are brought to life
revived, restored,
and the airfield of Stow Maries
like a phoenix lives again,
a different time and light
its past to never be forgotten.
In memory of those who died in WW I and II and used this aerodrome in Essex, England.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.