Short Seagrass Poems

I
Five thousand years
Slow human gears
No internet ears
Seagrass grew

II
Now 200 rugby fields
Showcase Nature's yields
When humans are still
Posidonia, fiberball, grow it will
(Protected by God through Australia)...

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cold to the touch of warm sandy toes -
     ebb and flow of liquid fantasy.
coolness climaxes at her sculpted shoulders.
 coral hair,      like seagrass, floats.
shapely legs morph.    her tail breaches,
slaps salty air,     then plunges into the deep.

4/13/2022
Line Gauthier’s Bite Size Poem no 42...

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Among the seagrass, slow they canter

Darling steeds of the sea,

Days spent anchored to a frond

Or currents shape their destiny.

Gentle creatures, captivating

Hypnotic in their motion.

Seahorses, they hold us rapt

Little jewels, of the ocean.









Entry for
SEAHORSES - Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by Julia Ward.
24/4/20158...

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Swimming side by side in unison among red coral,
Entwining occasionally in their colourful pre-dawn dance,
A pair of small creatures resembling 
Horses of the sea 
Or perhaps Pegasuses - with pectoral fins
Rapidly fluttering like hummingbird wings -
Swirl and sometimes touch snouts, as if kissing.
Ending their ritual, the female
Spirals up out of seagrass, leaving her mate impregnated.


May 5, 2018...

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Full of looming fruit
The black wind whispers
the children lived blithely
yonder in blue cave
The silent river protrudes
by the forked road
where the seagrass grows

The seagull mutely follows
jaded in evening sun
old church bells whisper chimes
Coolness and Autumn play in lonely chambers
Sacred blue chimes in plaid footsteps

The rusted window rattles
to the graveyard on the hill
The legends are foretold
twig like, the people remember
the dark ember days of spring...

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I hear the song of the ocean,
It wafts beyond the dune;

It floats along across the sands
And ebbs and flows in tune.

I feel its rhythm of motion
In the breeze blowing in;

And the dancing seagrass floweth
To its gay lyric spin.

I hear the song of the ocean,
Sweet notes upon these ears;

It beckons with soft white hands,
But my heart sees not or hears.

It is lost unto the notion
of love that might have been;

It beats its rhythm and knoweth
No greater song hath men....

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