The path is shady
the gait, shaky
Destination known
elicits a moan
Tried to turn back
behind me all black
The only way, forward
to the vast sea, shoreward
Tropical breezes waft across a sea of empyrean bliss as
a lost ship, the The Golden Dragon,
cast it’s indigo shadow upon turquoise waters.
Parrots preening one another,
were the welcoming party for weary travelers.
whispering leaves on trees twisted with the winds of ages,
graced the morning light upon the shore.
Down Anchor and a shoreward visit to
this seraphic isle, gave them a chance
to enjoy an idyllic splendor, they’d never before seen;
Fruit and nuts were gathered and some small animals for sustenance and a much-need good night’s sleep allowed them time to reflect, reconnect with one another and re-chart their course.
The preening pair watched
as the ship weighted anchor, turned starboard,
and vanished into thin air.
Unbound universe shimmering
Fiery orb of heat and light
This earthly ball's rotation
Oceans crashing shoreward
Majestic mountains rising
Mighty rivers rolling
Fruited plains abound
From molecules, the gift of life explodes
Fragile, persistent, prolific
The genomes exactly followed
With existence comes awareness
Then a searching for its meaning
An epiphany, realization
Praising, thanking, loving
Creator and created
Magnificent Glory found
white caps of
Kilimanjaro...
crest...wind-blown, shoreward
Azure sky’s
full moon
glitters on
cobalt sea.
Shoreward ship’s
ancient mariner
comes home.
July 7, 2021
Image chosen : #1
Contest : Picture This 2-7 Lines
Sponsor : Joseph May
Dry Dry Dry
There's a beer river up at San Miguel. We went up there to the brown river. A little wooden boat carried our souls. Not to safety. We all fell into the beer river! I was floundering so bad. The three others couldn't save me; nor me them. Beer engulfed us. It was each to their own. Save your skin. Not before drinking your fill. The others preferred San Mig Lite. I had Red Horse. I was called Lucky as I spied a bottle of Happy Horse. I swear the horse was smiling. We drank the San Miguel river ing dry dry dry. I burped when I was done. Drank my fill. As had the rest. I staggered shoreward. Leaving our upturned boat on river bed. If you read this, tell them we drank the San Mig river dry dry dry. And it don't exist no more. Except in myth and legend. So I'll spare you the Antipolo Jeepney ride there. Don't go looking for it. We drank the San Mig river dry dry dry.
~ A magic love potion ~
Gazing out over the ocean
My eye caught the crest of a wave
Dreaming of a magic love potion
That could our faint-beating hearts yet save
from the ravages of time, seas apart...
As wave after wave crashed shoreward
their sound drove a stake in my heart
How to conjure some new way forward...
When I espied something bobbing near me
A bottle I reeled in with a rope
Inside your love letter I, astonished, did see
~ Our magic potion, bobbing on a wave of hope
Shoreward she wafts
faint smile flutters next her lips
wave-enveloped, lurid flesh revealed
enigmatic, wind-whipped ballet...
Ghostly arms, tapering to a scepter-finger
limbs commence, melt into silent surf
cruel lips, melt into silent surf
whisper, "Love me, Disembody, Love me"
ocean's majesty...
whitecaps foam...roaring shoreward
...gently lapping sand
May 06, 2018
Shoreward
People often ask, why things are unfair
I suppose it always will be, everywhere
To some degree, as long as people don’t see
The truth and go about with their pleas
I find great sadness in such misconception
I wish there could just be positive reception
I am a person who thrives on the facts
But, I know this is not how everyone reacts
I try to live authentically, storms still arrive
People not getting their way, turmoil thrives
I can’t change this, I can only move forward
As best I can, along the path that is shoreward
Take me as I am in this life, or please do let go
Because it is the only way I will be, this I know
Heidi Sands
7/29/17
As I move forward in this life,
I continually remember what's been done.
Hilarities and happiness, sorrows and strife,
ever feeling like yesterday's son.
Some time ago I felt constrained by such,
as if yesterday's gravity held me fast.
Since, there's been happenings much,
a gradual release from chains in the past.
Yet I find, that release is part ruin, part reprieve,
from moments wholly sweet, wholly bitter, some both.
Some yesterdays I'd gladly of myself bereave,
while others, to divest my soul of, I'm loath.
I wake others in the night, cursing my post,
while I still sleep, plagued by today's grip.
In comparison, to the hardest yesterday I'd be host,
if only the Corps being a part of them, could I slip.
In every way, despite looking to tomorrow,
I seem to embody those whose course has run.
From yore and those before, words and ways I borrow,
ever and anon feeling like yesterdays' son.
A soldier, sailor in search of his song, seeking shoreward,
yearning for his own while echoing tales already spun.
He may be looking back, but is always moving forward,
and in this way I feel I will ever be yesterday's son.
This winter I am so much over
I need to run out in the clover
Time for spring to forward
Maybe I'll just move shoreward
And spend my time as a fearful rover.
Contest: Spring Forward
Debbie Guzzi
She played the harp, I fell in love,
It was easy don’t you see?
I was only six or seven,
She was youngish, twenty three.
I was sitting with my parents
And her concert was in town,
Harp and voice reaching to heaven
Found me moving further down
Softly, softly, how she whispered
Come to me, love, come to me,
Row to row as I moved forward,
Life was just her symphony.
Her hands danced chords like angels sing,
Voice a warmth that wove its way,
Finding me like waves move shoreward,
Searching, searching for a bay.
All to soon the concert ended,
Knew I must be by her side,
By the time my mother caught up,
Asked my love to be my bride.
Other loves have all been less than
Hard to follow my first yes
Years have passed by at a gallop
Still I wait her, I confess.
Epilogue:
Ladies perhaps found it precious
One so young could be a fool
Insensitive to lover’s gift
Carelessly forgot the rule
Love’s gift must be always honored ,
Details change but sense survive,
In Love’s time was left a rift,
Precious hearts now less alive.
Brian Johnston
August 5, 2014
Scattered Ash
by Odin Roark
The urn is tipped
Scattered ash enjoins
Jetstream
Jetsam
Flotsam
Atop the winds and currents
Nature's gathering
Knowing not yet
The next evolution of life's decay
Possibility awakens
This consciousness beyond our own
This departure from one actuality
Into the reformation of another
Molecular iteration begun decades earlier
Now roaming carefree among other airborne particles
Innocent stowaways enfolded in winged flights
Or ocean saturated driftings
Bobbing patiently
Awaiting new beginnings
As the journey continues
Feathers
Seaweed
Plastic cups and bottles
Provide passage
Shoreward
Skyward
Forward
A measureless journey this
Where matter exists forever
Where ash continues as yesterday's index
Referring to tomorrow's pages
Scattered ashes
Once of flesh and blood
Now returning to the vortex of cosmic chance
Where fresh finger-paints of infancy
Become infinity's next masterpiece
To mourn or not to mourn
Omniscience winks
No darkness of session
To light in the mind
I get the impression
That love is not blind
I can say with good reason
As I do in this rhyme
With love always in season
Stop wasting your time
If paddling shoreward
And leaving the glum
Put one foot forward
The other will come
If love is a reference
That you would make
Just what is the difference
A true heart does not break
So sing it aloud
Or on the down low
But always be proud
For the feelings that show
Search for your reason
Search for your rhyme
Even a heathen
Needs love all the time
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