Beach Nostalgia Poems

To live in the past must be scary a bit
Like you open the novel you’ve read
And it’s not quite the same what now you reread
What...

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Looking for dusk
My heart will wait
Breathing the sea breeze
My feet touches the recede waves
While looking the sun down
I wait you here at beach
Twilight soon will...

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Ghosts of Christmas Past

I do not fear the ghosts
of my Christmas past.
My yearly visit with each one
is a gift
a present
for this one day

I drive out...

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Once it was strong and full of life
Now it's a mismash of signs and rails
Place of the working man and his wife
Abandoned wood and left...

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Sand erases stress
And the sea washes
Toxins of the soul. 

Calm down and go
To the beach
Or go to the beach 
To calm down. 

The ocean stirs...

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The highlights of the Jersey Shore
   like a bone beach, they were no more
along with the loved Ferris Wheel
   that kids...

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My imprisoned glassed serenade
~beyond trades blues for juicy sea
topsy turvy ocean swayed surfers
and curvy wavy beachy onlookers
for flat surfs turned deep sea divers
~blues further me
family...

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Ten mile peninsula in Queens, N.Y.,
nighttime jetties of moonlight white caps,
waves rising and ebbing.
My grandfather walking with me on the
daylight shore so many summers ago.

My...

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I see the photo and I am there,
taking the picture of my friends at
happy hour on Mabel’s porch,
Penny smiling, bare feet on railing board, 
Mabel...

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beautiful spring day
I need a convertible
driving the fast lane
playing seventies music
loving beach boys on fire...

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They keep on rolling as the incoming, rapid waves splash,
and with them they bring an army of hungry shellfish;
a cemetery of shells pave the long...

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They keep on rolling as the incoming, rapid waves splash,
and with them they bring an army of hungry shellfish;
a cemetery of shells pave the long...

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"Wistful/Wishful: sometimes if a word can ever be realized, just an 'alphabet' change will suffice," ... by the Poet

The coconuts have gone awry,
and its fronds...

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The cliffs are being  eaten away 
By the constant pulsing tide.
Now just a short walk from the lane
When it  was once a short...

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Hot summer afternoons 
and the call 
of glistening water lapped
a child's mind with a want.
Just home from work
we would pester our father
until he relinquished
and took...

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