Suntanned Poems | Examples

Summer's End

Summer’s End

The sun begins to set a little earlier now—
a gentle breeze brushes past my suntanned face and
I walk briskly on the sand which feels cool beneath my feet.
My pace quickens, like the prance of a Cat on the prowl.

Once home, the trees which line the street on which I live
stand majestically tall.  No longer still, they begin to
sway to the music of the gentle breeze which softly touches
and fondles the leaves with a caress that only the breeze can give.

The air envelopes me, telling me it’s cooler than before—
and I run to the place that I call home,
Glad to be sheltered from something I feel in the air—
from a sky whose sun, today, will shine no more.

I pause in the house whose windows openly beckon the freshness of the crisp breeze as it quietly enters, gently pushing aside the ruffled curtains, and as it filters through the rooms—
I suddenly realize, it’s Summer’s End!

Eso eso eso he Baishakh

Summer churn, welcome home, come along, come, please come
along , (this morn)
With your unwholesome breath blown away a far the fragile, and
ailing, (a struggling croon )
Age old garbage may have mercy to egress
Old memory, forgotten lyric history,oblivious
Tearful dew sparkling now, may dry up in ease
Wiping out a shame, curing a mayhem , shiver
Burn saliently to season the pure suntanned believer
O muse and the cues! Dry up your soggy feel
Come and play around your flute of the ending zeal
To tear the old labyrinth of mystic away, (weaving the renewed
churn. )

Spring Steps

When summer comes
it won't fall out of the blue
like a suntanned cherub
no - after a heavy rainstorm
it will heave itself up
through the cracks in the pavement
as thousands of pale and fragile shoots -
most of these potentially sunny days
are squished under hurrying boots and shoes
some die of fright in the grey wet light.
Then, as a shadowy finger
nailed to a rusty sundial rises
a startled Groundhog whistles.
Surviving shoots leap upwards
powered by rainbows.
The sky is now fully convertible,
without thinking, you roll down
the roof of your car.

Gone Fishing

On the banks of a river, with a rod in my hand.
With the sun on my face, whilst i'm feeling suntanned.
I sit by the river and let my worries fade.
With dreams of a big one, whilst looking for shade.

With my line in the water, a bobber afloat.
Just watching those ripples, thats caused by a boat.
With the soft calming sound of the breeze in the trees.
Being lost in the moment, whilst feeling at ease.

As your bobber goes under, a fish takes your bait.
This feels like a good one, raising your heart rate.
Theres nothing quite like this, its not down to luck.
Its such a good feeling to have a fish on your hook.

With a tug of the line, and the shine of its scales.
Every pull on the rod, as i see it's fishtail.
With the sun shining brightly, i relish the fight.
Whilst playing this fish, trying to do everything right.

When all of a sudden, my line it goes slack.
I've lost the fish off my hook, Oh what a setback.

It was the thrill of the fight on this warm summers day.
As we dream of the fish, the one that got away.

When Summer is Gone

I intend to enjoy summer
and the sun, warming my ancient skin.
Once, I said goodbye to summer
because one season must yield to the next,
and it was time to attend school and learn.
I said goodbye to seemingly endless beach days,
crashing waves, sand crabs, frisbees, hot dogs, and portable radios singing
about suntanned California girls;
lazy mornings, bike rides to the ballpark,
and balls, flying off my bat and over walls.
I said goodbye,
as I said goodbye
to the excitement of youthful romance,
to my son's childhood,
and as I will say goodbye,
one day, to you,
dear friend.
I intend to enjoy summer.

Memories

Mid February dreams amongst the winds of change 
I am waiting for the season to relinquish its hold 
like the frost on the  rooftops, the snow at my door 
sooner or later will be no more...
I am watching the pine tree swaying in the cold sun 
dipping its branches, courtesies of a winter's day
A piano plays softly in the background 
as I sit here contented as a well fed cat 
Mid February dreams amongst the winds of change

From my rocking chair, lavender fields remembered 
sun born kisses with eyelet flashes of white linen 
suntanned arms raised before a blue, blue ocean 
airborne on a surfing board secured as an eagle 
like a beach boy I flew, and who ever knew 
She came to me like an August dream and 
slipped her tiny hand in mine, we became one 
like the summer stars in the sky when they bly 
from my rocking chair lavender fields, I remember 

Winter enclosures well aged in composure I sit to admire  
the view, amazed at how everything secretly, expires.

Joy ride

We feel soma nectar drip through our throat,
in slow motion, delighting and pleasing,
sound of one hand clapping, in our heart’s moat,
where rapture borne by bliss is unceasing.

The energy grid that loops feeble form,
entwines polarities dancing within
and as we’re swept away in this bliss storm,
with each breath, we feel ignition begin.

Under the facade of mental concepts,
we see in clear sight, light of our Self bright,
as we adapt to wisdom of adepts,
consumed by God’s flame, by day and by night.

Nothing need be done, nothing need be planned,
as we are being by bliss mists suntanned.

The Reclamation

The dusty, dead strands
of summer grass has resurrected
into plump green clumps 
knee deep in the ooze of boggy ground.
Now almost winter, something moves
in the cold, set to reclaim the places 
owned by the suntanned set who
paraded in the spotlight 
of summer's heat.

A creature of shade, it has spent
all summer locked away in the dark
of its chrysalis, rearranging 
the content of itself until, 
stirred by an icy chill, it stretches
to burst through its wrappings,
unfolding its wings, metamorphosing
into me. Watch out….my bite
can freeze souls.

Domestic Crime

Domestic crime

The couple was nicely suntanned, but the woman had
a black eye, he was very courteous to her, tried to hold 
her hand, she didn’t want to, he reddened in anger.
Well-dressed, the couple were on a way to a restaurant
meeting friends, no doubt a droll story would be told
how she got a black eye.
The men would believe the story, women exchange
because in the hapless woman's eyes they saw the truth.
They would find out-women talk- when at the ladies
powdering the noses.
The unlucky one would beg them not to say a word
he loves me but has a bad temper when I nag him
he slaps me; it is my fault for not understanding him.
He was very sorry for giving me a black eye, he cried
promised me not to hit me anymore.

Spring Song

Earth white flash suntanned brown
sweats snow droplets into the soil
softening heart's silence into a song
spring time joy is back 
with blossoms, gentle breezes
bird song melodies



Tenth Place Winner: A Brian Strand Premiere No 1214

First Place Winner: Brian Strand-All Yours-2/21/23

First Place Winner: Brian Strand- All Yours-4/7/21

Autumn's Auburn Rustic Dust

AUTUMN'S AUBURN RUSTIC DUST

When with closed eyes in Autumn's eves of gold,
She breathes in the blades of orange-yellow,
Looking for that 'something' called auburn rust,
Halting mid suntanned trees hundred years old..

Who is like her, amiable yet bold?
Tenderly she walks on slivers of brown,
Silently searching through caramel paths,
Out there with the rustling leaves hundredfold..

What in the crimson world does she behold?
Slowly, she slows her slow sleepy saunter,
Carbuncle foliage unveils her face - 
Jocund with an extra mile smile unrolled..

Wherefore does it shower russet-brown mould?
See, she has found her Autumn dust mellow,
Yippee! How she jumps now with joy untold!



03/16/2020
Lines to Awaken Your Muse 2 Contest 
Sponsor: Joseph May

Line 4: When with closed eyes in autumn's eves of gold

The Girl With Blue Aruba Eyes

~

She stood amidst the tropic breeze
the girl with blue Aruba eyes
Between the fruiting mango trees
neath pastel sunset shimmered skies

Meandering this summer’s eve
we stroll the shoreline hand in hand
Where lemongrass and grottos weave
and footprints wander in the sand

Alone this twilight paradise
as moonbeams glow on suntanned skin
Melodic turquoise waves entice
a seaside romance to begin

When here on dampened shore we kiss
my heart it beats in whispered sighs
Her beauty is my island bliss
the girl with blue Aruba eyes

~

Since it is winter, I thought I’d take a poetic trip to the tropics
Care to join me

New Year's Resolutions

NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS (from a dutiful husband for his loyal wife)

I’ll promise in the year ahead
To never, ever fart in bed,
Nor say how she should get thinner
At our anniversary dinner

To she who’ll wash my underpants
I’ll whisper words of sweet romance,
Like ‘dear, I smell your fragrant odour’,
NOT ‘how about a quick legover?’

I’ll promise I’ll learn how to cook
From that old Nigella book,
‘Monkfish Bake with Fried Pancetta’
Though egg and chips would taste much better

I’ll book us both a holiday
Somewhere hot for lazy days, 
We’ll get suntanned and drink sambuccas,
(Hope no-one sees my huge verrucas)

High as kites on karaoke
We’ll sing a duet, something folky
‘I Got You Babe’? No, ‘cos on balance
Singing’s not among her talents

We’ll watch the sunset hand in hand,
Strolling on the golden sand,
Taking in the sun-kissed view
When suddenly from out the blue

I’ll take a gold ring from my pocket
Go down on one sore knee socket,
And ask her to renew our vows
On holiday, if time allows

You see, I wouldn’t change a thing….
Apart from ask her not to sing!

Skinny Dipping

Hot nubile maidens in the nude,
    All extroverts with attitude.
    Curvaceous figures well endowed,
    Slink down the staircase heads unbowed.
    Provocative, with open arms,
    Displaying all their female charms.
    While not for prudes this girlie stuff,
    It's skinny dipping in the buff.
    Cold water soothes their suntanned skin,
    And cools their ardour deep within.
    Their wild antics, may go unseen,
    As night- times darkness shrouds the scene.
    But they forget security,
    Captures them, on c.c.t.v.

    10 / 15 / 2019.

Sandcastle On the Beach

Sandcastle on the Shore

*Poem based on Richard Harris's
singing, "MacArthur Park."
           ~~~~
Like a child, playing with wet sand,
I tried to keep our sandcastle
together with these very small, 
dimpled, suntanned hands.

But the ocean waves coming in,
were infinitely far stronger than 
me!
And our castle was being eaten by 
the monster sea.

I can't forget our sunny days
at that sentimental beach!
When we thought creating such
a thing was really out of our reach.

Now, you are gone and I recall,
you waving at me from the rear
window of your family car.
As you did, a large wave came!
And our sandcastle and you, 
are forever missing.

My little girl heart, oh,how it still 
weeps, in this toasty,warm summer 
night...
It took us so lomg to make it,
and I know, that I will never be able 
rebuild our sandcastle again!
Oh, no!

July 30, 2019
4pm PST

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