There's a beach where the sand
Won't get in your shoes
Or stick to your skin
When you're covered with sweat.
The shore's always clean
No trash or dead fish
And the water's still
Clear enough to drink.
In your mind, I hope and pray,
There's room for me
To kick that sand around
And be with you on your shore.
Alone in a Crowd
Alone in a crowd at the shore
With sea of faces in my fore,
The roaring silence is so loud
For soft noise I yearn in the crowd;
A heavy lightness sways my mind
As awakened dreams I can find,
Yet bitter sweetness laps my tongue
As loud hollow music is sung.
They walked barefoot on the wet sand.
The hot sun had dipped beyond the horizon.
The brine and fresh air intertwined,
How pleasant to walk hand in hand!
Occasionally she would stoop,
Her wedding ring glinting in the dying sun.
She would search for lovely decorated shells,
Whilst he tried throwing flat stones
Across the calm stretch of the waveless sea.
Finally, they had to turn back to their inn.
The access to the beach stopped their tracks.
Large rocks hindered further progress.
They did not mind really. It was dark now.
Their previous footprints were almost obliterated.
Above the dark sky like sequins glittered stars.
They arrived at the inn, finely prepared.
They found champagne and sipping all
Until they fell into a deep restful sleep.
We made our padded rooms,
Trampoline parks for a time,
For bouncing off the walls,
As we crash into the side.
Those clouds our leather breakers,
Eroding rolling rows,
Salty tongues to a gobstopper ball,
Cancelling the storm.
Strapped into a jacket,
A hopping biped fowl,
From pterosaur to Christmas baste
Skin golden crisped to taste.
Thrown off the pier a flip,
Does blind the inner ear,
To up or down, or sand or air,
Our skull: the barycentre sphere.
Clouds overhang again,
Dangled down on unseen strings
A sea of puppets bobbing,
On white lip crests of sea.
Thrown like a bottled ship,
Lab foetus in a jar,
My pickled skin, burned crisp like chicharrón,
A whole communion of my form.
Silently sulking
By lake's soothing sounding waves.
Singing beneath stars.
Imagining sinking down:
How sad it would be to drown.
at the miracle of low tide
in the glitter of an afternoon
the sun bestows its magic
on every grain of sand
and seashells come out
to play and sunbathe
the beach enchanted
with awe and whimsy
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I walk along the shore, bare feet in sand.
The seabirds wheel and cry above the sea.
The wind hums secrets shaped by ocean’s hand,
As surf calls out, wild-voiced and full of glee.
The sun casts arcs of color through the spray.
Shells open wide, and sing the songs I adore.
As swells roll in, where dolphins leap and play.
And salt clings fast to things we can’t ignore.
The breaking waves still rumble towards the sky.
They toss white veils above the rising swell.
And flotsam clings where tides no longer ply.
Where silence fell, and joy once used to dwell.
And when the summer sets and dusk has come,
We’ll sing sea shanties, lauding light and sun.
the sky
that
we know
so deep and wide
and
i
am sure
those
clouds
that
reach the shore
once more
The seashore knows, the path I tread.
Records my steps, when I have fled.
In prints I cast, the post-card shows,
The path I tread, the seashore knows.
Gulls see my stance, as swells flash past.
The post-card shows in prints I cast,
As wave surge clears, rushing to dance,
As swells flash past, gulls see my stance.
Seashells snatch sighs, replaying tears,
Rushing to dance, as waves surge clears.
The wind keeps tune, as my hair flies,
Replaying tears, seashells snatch sighs.
In sharp relief, shadows on dune.
As my hair flies, the wind keeps tune.
Blown sand repeats my secret grief.
Shadows on dune, in sharp relief.
Foam sings along, as the wave beats.
My secret grief, blown sand repeats.
The sea shanty, strums I belong,
As the wave beats, foam sings along.
Echoes of The Silent Shore .. Beloved..
Nay a word was said between them
On that sandy and sun bleached beach
But the bodies sought each other out
Moving in rhythm and perfect harmony
Deep groans emanated from the two
As a steamy climax engulfed in a tie
From deep within with acute tremor’s
Came after shocks with flushed looks
Coming beady drops of sweat peaking
Their nude bodies in the sun glittering
#Musing_Of_Rimi_Code254
My home is not of brick and stone
Nor has it laid foundations on
The filthy soil of earth, no mine
Is somewhere far beyond the sky.
It sits upon the clouds of white
And floats amidst the open skies.
Its walls of gem and gates of gold
Do hide a throne, I will behold!
Its shores are feared by death and sin
And rarely few do e’er get in
But still amidst those few ones rare,
I long to enter, be the heir
To peace and love, instead of fame,
Or coins of gold to be my aim.
I’d rather have my King alone
Than have a love, sham, of my own.
Oh yes, my home is feared by sin,
And feared by death, and all within
Shall reign with Him forevermore,
I hope to meet you at that shore!
Silent Shore Hiku 30
sand whispers softly,
waves gently kiss the shore~
nature`s sweet embrace.
Raging Waves Hiku 29
white foam floating on shore
raging waves crashing on reefs~
ocean`s wild dance.
The beak has broken, and I settle on the shore of painful thoughts,
while the sea sews salt around a shell of feathers—
a cradle carved from a time long vanished, a vapor dream of the past.
I touch it gently—the wings contract like secrets hidden in evening shadows—
fragile bruises, a poem of memories passed through rains of forgetting,
hidden beneath an old echo of lullabies that the wind whispers voicelessly.
But still, the shell splits and leaves behind only silence that drips into the depths,
beautiful things, shattering harder and harder now,
its beak caught in the shell's emptiness, wide and unmoved, a scream transformed into sculpture of silence.
And I—I remain stuck, dreaming with open eyes at skies of memories,
dragging myself through the sand of time, with knees scraped by edges of dreams,
still trying to fit into a space where I was never meant to be.
And the only question left—how many times can you bury a falling star,
that never asked to be held in the palm of an unknown desire?
I was drenched in black water,
Yet, it looked as though I were dried out.
I stood before a lighthouse,
Yet, remained unseen.
Gazing into the sea’s blackness,
The highest tides forever circled me.
My eyes could find no anchor,
As my dark hands sailed towards the farthest shore.
My home, too, was cloaked in shadow;
Something unseen, yet present, walked with me there.
The map and the wanderer within me never agreed.
Colours were but drifting sailors in my life’s vast sea.
Different souls sail different paths,
Tides come and go.
Memoirs float like driftwood.
Something vast yet fragile appears near the stones.
My grave is smaller than the stones,
Its epitaph; empty and black.
I performed on countless beaches,
Yet, nothing remains visible on this blackest shore.
Related Poems