Shores Poems - Poems about Shores

I fail to acknowledge I'm on fire retain faith the next death dive ~ will put out the flames ...

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SPRING BEACHING Wet and dry sands pleased, frothing waves compensating spring's sweet sunshine shores:- ...

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Bloody shores of fear and ice, seldom seen To be the stringent strangler borne of leaden blight The barred bastard, whore of the night Seen so the lowly leers led to fear the fall of life Stitch of mind, sown to soiled sickly ails Hie thee, and hail, to the tale of mind, in Bloodily bodied names, satin faced for the...

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Between the lines above the shores silence grows flooding the bayou taking moss from tall hollow branches as driftwood falls to the ground splash empty Orr the balance beneath hidden gems catered to beyond what is seen and what is not seen while the tropical breeze frolic about nature's coastline beside the bay while inland...

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A languorous morning Nestled in between warm duvets, a goose feathered pillow or two…a luxury A striped kitten, a beautiful shade of grey, on a windowsill grey too; purring, gentle breaths, authenticity so appealing A glass of champagne…. Generously sprinkled atop with sweetness, cinnamon, vanilla and pink zest Lethargy turning to verbose; edginess not an epitome of...

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Sky spills blue across sun speckled footprints memories melt in the sea I swim among dancing dolphins in butterfly bliss strokes Sky spills blue In the warm arms of teal ocean splashing across sun speckled footprints I remember us as shores of forever memories melt in the sea ...

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As if you were a bell chiming on the shores of oblivion, A sweet murmur, yet dim, bathing in the cold waters of misunderstanding. And the world, imprisoned in the bars of indifference, has forgotten the gentle echo of your heart, Watching you like a shadow at dawn, in a disjointed dance with its own silhouette. But you are...

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Sitting in the dark sound of rushing waves crashing feeling of relief...

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Once, forests whispered tales untold, A symphony of life, green and bold. But silence reigns where giants stood, Charred scars remain, misunderstood. Oceans choked, a plastic shroud, Where vibrant reefs once danced out loud. No sparkling scales, no coral hues, Only remnants of what we lose. The air we breathe, a poisoned sigh, A canvas choked by a smoky sky. The Earth weeps, a fevered...

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On supposedly eternal shore, steps purposefully wander as they did before not long ago when existence swoop with the bow over strings- its created harmony an unseen, camouflaged racket- where trampled and washed sand allowed more human traces - inexperienced and confident -, unlike the possessive waves and foam who's stones shall not be tainted by the joyful rays...

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Beneath the sun-kissed sky of Coastal California's domain, Where Pacific waves meet the land, an eternal refrain. Golden shores stretch along the rugged terrain, A canvas painted with nature's utmost pertain. Majestic cliffs rise with stoic grace, Overlooking the ocean's vast embrace. Seagulls glide on the breeze, a ballet in the air with grace As the salty mist weaves tales without balance. Beneath...

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Upon evening and exotic shores, I feel the mist of your hair, Your hips, Of the sweetest crescents, Dance like a ballerina, With an irises love, And its blush of lavendars, Serenading vases and gardens, Your accents of honey, Born of the enchanted waves, Caresses the soul, With loving midnights, And tender noons, The evening sways, With lovely, and solacing bouquets, Its mango sighs, Strewn along the petalled vistas Reynaldo Casison...

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A seagull, Has flown, Into the lavendar, Sunset, As you put a lilly, In your evening hair, And your love, Has flown, Into my soul, With the moon, Our love drifts, Upon wanderlust, Shores, A bonfire glows, With the night stars, With the warmth, Of your love, And your love, Has warmed, My soul, A seagull, Has flown, Into the lavendar, A bonfire glows, With the night stars, And our love drifts, Upon wanderlust shores Reynaldo Casison...

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I move as my soul moves... I sway with the tides, and drift along the shores... I soar over valleys with the wind, and run wild through natural habitats... Anything to not live in stagnation if I can... Freedom is my calling... Patience my jest. Come as you can Before I am gone again......

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Than The Grand Illusions Of Those Paradise Shores I that dares the purple sunlight to ease my soul splinter and enter this old, discontented heart all the mistakes, little sins that takes heavy toll worrisome the most was the quite unsteady start the shy lad that saw the great frosting on the pane the midnight calls and the mornings promised truth the...

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