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 the azure sky, dolphins play,
With joyful leaps and flips, they lead the way.
Silhouetted against the sky so sunny,
Their laughter echoes, in a complete harmony.
Whales, majestic giants of the deep,
Gracefully traverse the waters, secrets to keep.
In rhythmic dance, their tails let tales slip,
Of distant journeys and ancient trails to keep.
Surfers ride the waves with skill and grace,
Chasing the rhythm of the ocean's embrace.
As the swell rises and the tide pulls in balance,
They become one with nature, in the Pacific’s embrace.
My whole layout you rearranged
fragments fit my shredded heart,
revived by a blackout unplanned;
Cabinets you couldn’t leave closed,
repairing hinges that had fallen apart;
My whole layout you rearranged;
Led me down a route untouched
unprepared for all you would impart,
revived by a blackout unplanned;
All that was familiar now changed
as I stretch along this new chart;
My whole layout you rearranged;
Doors and windows you have opened,
transformed this home from the start;
revived by a blackout unplanned;
Commencement began at the end
I am excited to finally depart;
My whole layout you rearranged,
revived by a blackout unplanned.
Oh, how I love a peaceful summer day
when trees are still, and fields of grass stand tall.
In tranquil air, the bird songs drift away-
in tunes so clear, I'm lulled with every call.
Oh, how I love the hush of Autumn time
when gold and rusty hues paint hills that flow
and stretch along old country roads- sublime
with sunny rays that spray a gentle glow.
Oh, how I love the winter wonderland
of snow that glistens in the morning sun.
The pure white sheen on hills and timberland-
in silent laze as icicles are spun.
Oh, how I love resurgence every spring;
the air exudes sweet scents of wakened earth.
The thrill of sprouting buds, birds on the wing-
gives solace in the wonder of rebirth.
Though all our seasons quickly come and go-
I always rest- quiescent in each show.
September 30, 2021
~1st Place~
Contest: "Q" Contest, New Only Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Judged: 10/04/2021
Prompt: #2. Quiescent
For some folks, it’s a marathon
Of lonesome country miles
That stretch along a winding road
At every runner’s pace.
For others, it’s a full-on sprint
Of pounding, driven strides
That hammer toward the finish line
To claim the winner’s place.
Could be a relay in exclusive lanes,
Or a wide field open run.
Could be a rally’s check point drama,
Or a thrilling steeple chase.
But then you have those other folks
For whom it’s a ball and chain,
A shackle that imprisons minds
And robs their souls of grace.
They see the world in black and white,
But it’s not the checkered flag;
It’s a loser’s way of claiming
They define the human race.
The cadent curls recede upon the shore,
with fizzle sounds like brushes on a drum,
their once brave tune declined forevermore,
beneath the growing shades of a beach plum.
The shadow fingers stretch along the beach,
to close the eyelids of a sleepy sun,
on the horizon nodding her last speech,
her closing song, as her best time is done.
Yet, she leaves fervent images behind,
reprints of joyous moments on the sand,
or backwash from tides pounding so unkind,
a montage of love sketches super grand.
Before the final twilight curtain’s drawn,
seek to bask in the wonders of each dawn.
Standing at the water's edge
a school of small fry catfish swim
scurrying beneath the sun rays
in and out the cover of decaying leaves;
how fast they hurry
gathering in a blend of darkened feelers
that explore the shores beneath them
escaping the sharp beaks of snapping turtles
hungry and seeking food
breezes lightly brush the surface
easing in and out the lily pads
ready to blossom their bulbous protrusions;
a fluid current slips along with the shadows
curving effortless around the bends
while turtles bask upon stationary logs
baking in the brilliance of the sun;
heron glide with heads gleaning the water
as larger fish hang low beneath the currents
tall reeds stretch along the shorelines
floating in the gust of humid atmosphere
that lay heavily upon the body and skin;
all is a return to nature here
lush and green full of life born in spring
embracing the warmth of summer
on the lake.
Sunlight has come, and the newest has day began
With the sweet sound of sleep lay in curls beyond
Wear limbs and rest, above heavenly skies waiting
A flurry of voices to come from little birds singing.
Lofted wings of sunlight leap into a new horizon wide,
with imagery of earth’s blue and bright turned upside.
stars dancing on ice open throbbing awakening eyes,
heat reach the chain of haze stretch along the beaches.
Bouquets of flowers marry perfectly with lush colors
Solar power with their twinkling sites makes happy hours.
When the sword blade of beauty glinted in the sunlight,
Through the atmosphere comes a spectrum of visible light.
The going down spear made a tiny window visibly appear,
miles beneath the surface where sparkling streams are rare,
Sunlight threatening to fade reflected from the mirrors
Retreating steam caught in the net with realms of stars.
At the world’s, it falls without fear into far space,
Sunlight left over long enough to linger in a shadowy place,
Now we sweetly sleep again, before the steady dawn rises
From the other side, sunlight will come back to mesmerize.
Before me lies the ocean, with its shore,
maintaining varied limits day and night;
at times, beyond its border, reaching more
than ever, thrashing out in wild delight.
At other times, so docile, ebbing low
with timid ripples that creep on the sand.
With highs and lows, the tides reshape its flow,
by rhythms that obey the moon's command.
And here, I'm like an ocean at low tide,
in quiet stillness, feeling down and out-
no energy, I let my high waves slide
and merge with the calm seascape hereabout.
But like this ocean, soon my tides will turn-
as waves roll in and stretch along the beach,
and thrashing out in wild delight, return
to grasp the joy of everything in reach.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Standard, End of 2018
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 12/29/2018
~1st Place~
Contest: Tell Me A Story 2
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
Judged: 11/08/2018
Steadily
the rapids flow, fast and quick,
splashing up and down the stones
then falling into the pond.
Swirls and ripples form
where once still waters held one’s gaze
now, a constant motion forward, away
to reach the distant shores.
Sun light
warm, erraptured blurrs
fill the blue hued sky
to stretch along the mornings horizon.
The day begins
quiet and silent
slipping out the shadowy night
to blend and blind in the air.
From the earth
a thousand green pointed shoots
inch up a little further each day
basking in the sun drenched warm.
Spring comes
early yet anticipated
ready to rise, living again
in the newness of a spring day.
The air is filled with owls' hoo-hoo;
trees shadows stretch along the grass,
looking like tall, mean monsters;
red eyes glitter behind the bushes;
the lake smells like fresh blood;
skeletons dance like marionettes
under the trees' branches...
The forest is damned.
Date: 13/11/2015
Name: Teddy Kimathi
Contest: Trashed #4
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Branches that stretch along the terrace with dangling stems throughout. Scraped, chipped and peeled of layers from its grey skin. Connecting each stem to stem marked by living things that invade and conquer this figure with branches and stems. With glitches along the way. Fades and patches, competing with each other, yet symbolic something to be discovered. Flow and movement takes its advantages and makes it into the unknown, and the discovery of richness and deep surfaces to be drawn in for the taking. The breathing organism pound its bleeding heart through and through as it forms pockets of bubbles for reciprocating. Where the exchange begins or ends has a recycle formulated within the branches of its life to receive and life to give; given source
There is a place where the land bows down to kiss the misty tide,
Where rolling waves bring memories of the place my heart resides.
There among the old fishing shacks that stretch along the shore,
I find the thing I’m longing for, in your sweet embrace once more.
We sit together on a weathered log I carve my initials on,
And as you mend the fishing net, I sing your favorite song,
“Oh Danny Boy”, falls on the wind and floats across the bay,
As you smile at me and melt my heart, with words you do not say.
Beneath a golden sun with the fish and the smell of wild flowers,
A little girl and her Grandpa, sit happily and while away the hours,
And when the sun dips in the bay, we put the mended nets away,
And hand-in-hand walk home again, to the end of a perfect day.
~~~~~~
Author: Elaine George
(In loving memory of Theodore Evans - My Grandfather)