Picture a man, showcasing his sandcastle to the sea.
It is crafted with perfection,
each grain of sand like a flawless soldier in his rank.
It is a rising skyscraper of luxury
amidst the sand's flat glare.
He runs to the water's edge
and calls to the sea,
waiting for the seafoam to wash gently over his feet.
But they never did.
Idly, the white crests sauntered away in indifference,
sometimes approaching like an old friend,
sometimes retreating like a sworn nemesis
but never did they seek out the man.
Eventually, beneath the moon's soft glow,
the chilling tide reached out in convenience
and without a word of thanks,
pocketed the sandcastle,
sweeping it into the depths with casual ease.
And though the man wept
for the loss of his creation,
he vowed to one day venture across this callous,
wild being
if only to see
if its actions were one of ignorant routine.
She hung fat on a citrus tree,
sprouting like a hip jut,
like the tall grass and itch weed.
The sweating sun drunk her up and splaid ‘er bare,
sliced her clean open before
the pecking birds could close in.
An orchard is a sea side,
so if the ships could, they would
swashbuckle the great ocean of trees
and lick the seafoam of blossoms that
sprayed upon their greedy lips.
Instead their rusted Volkswagens
watch at bay from the back roads.
The pickup trucks mouth the days
till the ripe time.
Young navel, that oil green coat
doesn’t fit like it used to, and summer’s the
kinda lover who licks at your skin.
So when the men come with the topaz winds,
with their sunken buckets and gall,
should it be you who dip into the wharf
of their palm? Should it be you who bows
down, who twirls for those brutes who
like them too soft, too soon?
An orchard is a seaside,
stretched thinner than the thick of here.
So when you begin to seep,
to wrinkle and prune.
When you, filled with your many months
fall at the Earth’s hip,
amongst the tall grass and itch weed.
Will they not see your beauty then,
Is the fruit not sweetest rotten?
The distinction is of no relevance
It is one and the same in my eyes.
Lime, Forest, Hunter and Mint Green ;
Sage, Seafoam, Olive and Pea Green;
Emerald, Jade, Chartreuse and fen Green;
Verdigris, Celadon and Spruce Green;
One truth remains: it is Green.
It represents nature and harmony,
A symbol of refreshness and renewal,
A beacon of eco-friendliness and sustainability.
It calms my nerves and breathes serenity,
It projects growth, abundance and prosperity.
It raises the bar of optimism and hope,
A full, balanced meal for my emotional stability.
Time and again, i find myself at the crossroads of uncertanity.
The room before me houses two colours,
Each holding the unknown.
I tremble at the thought of meeting the unexpected.
With the keys in my hands and my name stamped on its doors,
I stand still, like a tree in the absense of wind.
I contemplate the quantity and quality of the ingredients i mixed,
were they enough to warrant the colour that i seek?
The Sun sows seeds of mirth
Now sprouting in a sea of dearth
The seeds will follow reason
From the fallow into life
Your season on this Earth.
The way my life weaves
The swaying of trees
My roots in the Earth will stay
A tree which grows towards the sun
Never would the journey done
Waves crashing on stone
Weave silence and tone
Seafoam sings prismatic spray
The last wave to reach the shore
Fell too fast to teach love’s Lore
Love is a passionate portrait painted with the heart
Burnished brush strokes are a cherished work of art
when friendship blossoms as buds bloom into flowers
and romance reigns with caresses in garden bowers
Splashes of seafoam and evergreen flecks her eyes
Cerulean for the sea near the shore where she lies
Tint of Tuscan gold in the sand, reflected by the sun
and pastel pink on the lovely lips of my beloved one
Crimson on canvas, ruby red once she's been kissed
It's my intimate impression of her in a tender tryst
With carefully blended oils, her portrait takes shape
as I capture the delicate tresses curling on her nape
My deep desire tempts and teases my male senses
Against loving her, I will build no bulwark of defenses
My fingers long to fondle her cheek when she smiles
This beauty is not a woman who uses feminine wiles
I've adorned the canvas with her image as best I can
Flawed to a fault by my hand. I am an imperfect man
In this painted creation I hope I've been able to portray
the beauty and grace of her that words cannot convey
May is magical,
the garden is an ocean of color climb
every shade of green conceived
circled round the pathways of time,
long ago perceived;
to the right
dark juniper and pine, short and tall,
pickled sage and moss grow low,
seaweed, basil, pear staged for large and small
stepping stones on shamrock rows;
to the back and left
a dip of lime and emerald fern
that opens wide onto another path
clustered together in sunlit berns
bud and flower fading fast;
and in the silky shadowed hues
pistachio, seafoam and mint rise
with olive asparagus forest dues
inspiration and scent for the ear and eyes,
spring greens and all of nature's clues.
Welcome all,
Please take a seat,
Robin’s egg blue or bubblegum pink?
Seafoam green or sunflower yellow?
The choice is up to you.
The ropes will suspend you with the utmost care
As the carousel slowly spins.
Let your feet dangle,
Feel the breeze in your hair,
Breathe in deep,
Exhale your every care.
Offer a smile to an unknown friend,
We’re all on this ride together.
It stops now and then to let someone off,
Eventually it will for you.
But you needn’t worry, dear one,
For Mystery is at the wheel.
So play lightly and be still,
A gentle rock, a subtle sway,
As we walk each other home.
Etheree 10- 12-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Waves ~
Waves
Glide in
On white wings,
Fleecy whitecaps
Flutter in rhythmic
Rhapsodies of seafoam
Swell across the naked sands
Hypnotic serpentines slow dance
Surges of rising tides bear spindrift
To sparkle like crystal frost in sunlight
Ebbing billows crescendo in withdrawal
As the shore clings to the waves caress
Tidal pulse bids the shore farewell
Leaving sandy signatures,
Lacy ripples of ebb,
Tidepools overflow
Driftwood harvest
Seaside gifts
New waves
Form
When the sun above is shining
On the sea, so bright and briney
And each day is a beach day
Where you’re nestled in the dunes
It’s June
When the sun above is blazing
On the beach on which you’re lazing
Seashells are all free shells
And sand dollars are doubloons
It’s June
When the sun above is gleaming
And you find yourself daydreaming
Concrete and chrome turn into seafoam
And your front lawn’s a lagoon
It’s June.
The agony the shadow brings to the room,
Those seafoam eyes shinier than the moon.
The variables a haunting reminiscence
Of three thousand years of omniscience.
The cursed form of blessing
Through a sweet twilight addressing
Makes it's way through the silent graveyard
Towards a stone that reads "Alina Aveyard".
Nets are hauled and homeward go the shrimp boats
rolling slow and easy on a sunset path,
their droning engines chugging
over a rippling seafoam.
In the mangrove swamp
an egret sets its white sails and glides upwards
upon hot winds.
The sky opens for its passage
leading it through a cloudless window.
Cypress roots grip the darkening water.
their knees just above a brackish deep.
Mosquitoes dance in the dank
as shadows reach inwards.
Tonight on the bayou, grills will be heated,
pots filled,
while fishing nets are neatly reefed and mended
by rough and ready hands.
Children will skip and play in the barefooted
calm of late evening,
until carried away to their cots
sleepily listening to anhinga and loon
chant their native calls
beneath a far from sleeping lakeside moon.
I lie in the grass,
Knees in my hands,
Shattering like glass.
Trying to understand
As you turn you back
On what I thought was confirmed.
Your eyes seafoam green
Like the waves.
The ocean retreated,
But never returned.
To be completed
Leaving the beach a slave,
I walk away
Trying to forget
What happened today
eyes of seafoam green
feral mermaid heart
holding out for true love
her balanced counterpart
AP: 1st place 2020
Submitted on September 28, 2020 for contest COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (18) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - Honorable Mention
*Image of Sailing Ship by Pixabay.
Course Of The Tradewinds
Fair winds nudge the sails, as thoughts wane the souls,
talks start out its trails, whilst the crest waves rolls,
whilst the crest waves rolls, talks start out its trails,
as thoughts wane the souls, fair winds nudge the sails.
Men and sea outlast, yet men's souls yearn home,
stubborn sea steadfast, as dreams match seafoam,
as dreams match seafoam, stubborn sea steadfast,
yet men's souls yearn home, men and sea outlast.
Work fills mindful heads, decks swabbed and nets filled,
worn bones on slept beds, rough seas make men skilled,
rough seas make men skilled, worn bones on slept beds,
decks swabbed and nets filled, work fills mindful heads.
Shout from the crow's nest sends crew on top-deck,
those upheld the quest, mapped charts kept on trek,
mapped charts kept on trek, those upheld the quest,
sends crew on top-deck, shout from the crow's nest.
2020 June 04
*1st Place*
A Brian Strand 4 or 5 line
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2021 August 05
*1st Place*
Swap The Verse
~~Joseph May: Judged 2020 June 28
Seafoam dreams massage deep into my scalp,
as uncomely thoughts drift drain-ward destined.
A warm, white noise water rush of comfort
cradles me back to the days of my womb home,
with the only goal of growing and thriving.
11/9/19
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