Beach Simile Poems | Examples
These Beach Simile poems are examples of Simile poems about Beach. These are the best examples of Simile Beach poems written by international poets.
The last time I could remember seeing you was 2017
Life was one big song
You know the one that plays from the voice of the vinyl
A unique raspy calm like sand on the beach
Where you forget everything and just breathe
Watching mother nature smile made me mirror her
Watching the mind of her heavens made me want to lasso the moon and kiss her sun
Family is the one thing that can be so dangerous but held by the hands of beauty
For just a moment I remembered life is really a beauty
Full of shattered glass memories as clear as yesterday
And for a moment I forgot the death of a smile
p.s. don't forget your tears can be happy...
If Australia was a poem
It would be written in galloping Iambic
Full of characters leaning toward the laconic
Every line a simile, every name a diminutive
If Australia was a poem
It would be a sun drenched beach
A perpetual holiday of non-stop mate-ship,
good-natured joke telling and weekend BBQ’s
If Australia was a poem
It’s lines would start out leafy, ending in spinnifex,
head out of the big smoke to beyond the Black Stump
No matter what happened in between-
“She’d be right mate.
If Australia was a poem
It would be flowing like the landscape
It would speak to you of far away,
of scented , sun warmed winds and
distant shades of green and grey.
If Australia was a poem
I’d keep it close to heart
It’s familiar lines of birdsong and patriotic verse,
mingling in memory this land-my home.
Beach Umbrellas - Exotic mushrooms erupting from sand
I wandered, lonely as a beach
that stretches miles along the shore,
with its horizon, far from reach-
to hug the sky, forevermore.
From unseen starts, waves crash, retreat,
bathe pristine sand- no prints of feet.
So vast, the ocean, with huge waves
that rise and churn beneath the wind
as white caps form with froth that plays
upon the beach to then rescind
back out to sea, where currents blend;
return again- once more- extend.
The lonely beach divides that space
tween stable land and rolling sea-
two worlds that coexist, embrace;
all life by nature, guarantee.
The land, with seasons, changes scene;
the sea turns wild- or rests, serene.
But still, the lonely beach remains;
as constant as can be, it lies-
except with ebbs and flows, it gains
a changing breadth with lows and highs.
It guards both worlds- and all alone-
will face those forces still unknown.
Gold
glass falls,
open palms
dropping each shard
like stars flung out across the universe,
lost to a shining abyss, a cosmos
of warm secrets,
forever
castles,
gone.
Shaken snow globe disarray
Stark format unfamiliar
Relocated mountain ranges
Jacket assets of chameleon
Wobbled flesh given for return
Eyeballers display dollars
Fixated focus planted firm
Subject unacknowledged
Drifting body parts ignite
Lust of lurid possibility
From actuality retired
Maggot eaten depravity
Gyraters' slip into depiction
Resigned, pilot drives auto
Puckered faces maintain rhythm
Minds' contents, peeled potato
Stiletto gripping charicature
Formed from Adam's vital rib
Collared stilled near provocatuer
Audience outcome pathetic
Satirical image conjured as ideal
Patron clean faced gullible
Sensation powders scene unreal
Hand fulls of snowballs - impossible!
ocean waves rush in
like rambunctious preschoolers
at morning recess
eager to entertain you
in goofy games of pretend
Strands of breeze criss-cross the blossomed garden,
like destemmed leaf I rustle aimless on the ground,
don’t see the beauty of the flowers floating away,
don’t find motif on butterfly wing fluttering around.
Currents of wind transect the blue stratum of sky,
like the detached clump of cloud I drift to nowhere,
don’t get colors from the sunburst horizon at dawn,
don’t notice silver lining of the glow of moonshine.
In monotony of sound in the breaking waves’ surge
like the forlorn pebble on beach I roll back and forth.
don’t hear whispering melody of serenading breeze,
don’t listen mild murmur of pearly water flowing by.
In tide of noise my mind wanders beyond awareness,
I concentrate ruffled life in serene depth of meditation,
learning to extract ecstasy from focused consciousness
to see the soul bloom in bliss in the vase of mindfulness.
Written : February 13, 2019
February 16, 2020
Contest :Strand Select Q, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
The horizon cuts straight, long, hard
silently declining less than a degree
like toys across a cartoon’s one frame stillness
a small yacht rocks like a child’s boat
a helicopter putters, a small jet silently
bellies over the sea thundering suddenly
against a graded blue sky
children flying a kite
a plummeting twisting tied bird in its death throes
falling from the warm seemingly red-speckled blue
broken only by a smudge of grey cloud
curling white-tipped waves swirl against rocks
a lonely Zen-meditative crab in their shade
the sand, ridged, striated, pockmarked
small holes left as bubbling miniature blowholes
fine lines webbed around
sand rippled like the sea, waved and cleansed
a poetic transgression? – Neptune’s impost?
the soap-sud foam his in-coming joyful jouissance
the thin receding water a pin-spot bridal veil
and a bridal train, its white scalloped lace edge
pleating, folding, hiding under the next wave
in rippling curving line-patterns
Shine on, radiant sun
Shine beyond the threshold
Of twilight. Cast a luminous haze
Over gloomy rainy days
Glory the wet Earth with sweet warmth
To mask the bitter aftertaste left
By today's rain. And just like yesterday
Color the cityscape lemon yellow
Shine your rays of dawn on those
Engulfed by darkness, day after day
Keep the chill off the air so the human race
Will happily dance in sunshine
Dry up puddles splattering unsightly mud
Swing your magic wand side to side
To tumble back the inverted pyramid
Piercing into a garden of beautiful flowers
Shine on, radiant sun
Beautifully bright as always
I dream of lounging on the beach
Come summertime
Date written: 04/07/2016
GUESS WHO’S COMING…
(Apropos My Island Home..)
The sun slowly sunk
its exhausted reddish-orange
head into the waiting sea’s
soothing sky blue bosom.
Excited white mane waves
splashed upon the waiting shore;
leaving the froth of their tears dissipating
in stilled sand soaked with haunting memories
of the disembarkation of stinking slave ships.
At the entrance gate of the sea wall,
a newly painted sign read: Guest Only.
Sighting my ebony epidermal hue,
red coral eyes of a bleeding conscience
painfully motioned me to move on:
Pity, you can’t be a guest
in your own yard.