Shells
Where the long waves put cool, caressing hands
Upon the fevered temples of the shore,
And with their eager lips are telling o’er
Their strange, unspoken secrets to the sands,
Along the shining rim of cape and cove
The shells in fair, unplanned mosaic lie;
And there the children, keen of heart and eye,
Gather their harvest in of treasure-trove.
Yet this is one of ocean’s mysteries—
That, while the humbler shells the breakers brave,
The fairest are most fragile, and the wave,
Ruthless, has crushed and mutilated these!
Ah, sea of life, we, too, like children, stand
Through youth and age, expectant, at thy rim,
To pray for golden argosies from Him
Who holds thee in the hollow of His hand.
Capricious tides delude us, veer and turn,
And flash our dreams to view, again to hide;
A moment on the breaker’s crest they ride,
The while we watch, their destiny to learn.
Poor, fragile dreams! Our humbler hopes befall;
But crushed and shattered, tempest-tossed and torn,
These come to shore, the dreams of youthful morn—
Most fair, most frail, and best beloved of all!
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1897)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Boys Bathing
Round them a fierce, wide, crazy noon
Heaves with crushed lips and glowing sides
Against the huge and drowsy sun.
Beneath them turn the glittering tides
Where dizzy waters reel with gold,
And strange, rich trophies sink and rise
From decks of sunken argosies.
With shining arms they cleave the cold
Far reaches of the sea, and beat
The hissing foam with flash of feet
Into bright fangs, while breathlessly
Curls over them the amorous sea.
Naked they laugh and revel there.
One shakes the sea-drops from his hair,
Then, singing, takes the bubbles: one
Lies couched among the shells, the sands
Telling gold hours between his hands:
One floats like sea-wrack in the sun.
The gods of Youth, the lords of Love,
Greeks of eternal Thessaly,
Mocking the powers they know not of,
Naked and unembraced and free!
To whom the Siren sings in vain
To-day, to-morrow who shall be
The destined sport of gods and men.
Unseen, the immortal ones are here,
Remembering their mortal loves-
The strange, sweet flesh, the lips that were
Frail and most perishably fair.
Diana leaves her whispering groves,
And of Actaeon dreams and sighs,
And hears the hounds bay in the wood.
Oh, Cythera, the trembling blood
Upon one petal's paling mouth
Before thee and this noon must rise
While thou remember Adon's eyes!
One mournful and complaining shade
Beyond Avernus shakes his head,
Dreaming of one beloved youth
Borne from him, lost and dazed and dead,
Dragged by the nymphs avenging hair
Into the sea-bed oozing dim,
In that cold twilight unaware
Of each great sunrise over him.
. . . . . .
One day, while still these waters run,
And noon still heaves beneath this sun,
You shall creep, unremembering,
Whom Life has humbled and subdued,
Ruined your bodies, tamed your blood,
No more the lords of anything.
But spent and racked with mortal pains,
The slow tide pushing through your veins,
Coldly you face this magic shore;
For you the dsenchanted noon
Scarce haunted is with ghosts that were
Once, and were you, and are no more.
Faltering against the wind and sun
That vainly seek your hair for gold,
Stubborned with habit, grey and old,
You know not why you wander here,
Nor what vague dream pursues you still,
For Life ahs taken fullest toll
Of all your beauty; on each soul
Love's hand has left his bitter mark,
Has had of you his utmost will,
And thrusts you headlong to the dark.
And colder than these waters are
The stream that takes your limbs at last:
Earth's vales and hills drift slowly past. . .
One shore far off, and one more far
poem by Muriel Stuart
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At The Seaside
O SOLITARY shining sea
That ripples in the sun,
O gray and melancholy sea,
O'er which the shadows run;
O many-voiced and angry sea,
Breaking with moan and strain,--
I, like a humble, chastened child,
Come back to thee again;
And build child-castles and dig moats
Upon the quiet sands,
And twist the cliff-convolvulus
Once more, round idle hands;
And look across that ocean line,
As o'er life's summer sea,
Where many a hope went sailing once,
Full set, with canvas free.
Strange, strange to think how some of them
Their silver sails have furled,
And some have whitely glided down
Into the under world;
And some, dismasted, tossed and torn,
Put back in port once more,
Thankful to ride, with freight still safe,
At anchor near the shore.
Stranger it is to lie at ease
As now, with thoughts that fly
More light and wandering than sea-birds
Between the waves and sky:
To play child's play with shells and weeds,
And view the ocean grand
Sunk to one wave that may submerge
A baby-house of sand;
And not once look, or look by chance,
With old dreams quite supprest,
Across that mystic wild sea-world
Of infinite unrest.
O ever solitary sea,
Of which we all have found
Somewhat to dream or say,--the type
Of things without a bound--
Love, long as life, and strong as death;
Faith, humble as sublime;
Eternity, whose large depths hold
The wrecks of this small Time;--
Unchanging, everlasting sea!
To spirits soothed and calm
Thy restless moan of other years
Becomes an endless psalm.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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The Mouth of a Killer
Destiny can be changed
Lives can be altered
Futures can become different
Hopes can be dashed
Dreams can be crushed
It’s all in what you do
What you say
Who you meet
It’s all what you decide
How you live
Why you cry
The world isn’t simple
And people are fragile
So destiny, it’s malleable
Thus speaks the mouth of a killer.
poem by Fae Sebastian
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Wave
Door collapsed
water rushing
shore dreams
shells crushed
water flushing
walls seam
gone.
poem by Jodilee Duke
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Pray
So here we stand again
Like dust on mother earth
And we hide our faces in our dreams
Only emptiness where angels flew - high on golden wings
And the voice of god has vanished now - lost inside our dreams
But the only way to go is heaven
All we can do is pray
In the darkness we stand with the world in our hands
And we pray
For a better tomorrow
We wait
Far beyond the horizon
There's a sound in the sky
The voice of glory I hear a silent cry
When the heroes of yesterday are gone
All we can do is pray
In the darkness we hide and we wait for the light
And we pray
Oh we pray
Let us pray
I've seen the darkside of the moon in my dreams
Now I know it ain't a place to live for us all
All our gods creation is dead an gone
Now we stand like children all alone forever
All we can do is pray
Forever and forever and forever more
For a better tomorrow - we wait
Pray
There's a light in the dark
And it's shining so bright on our way
Still there is hope on our way
And we pray
Oh
song performed by by Gamma Ray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet XLVI: Fair and Lovely Maid
Fair and lovely maid, look from the shore,
See thy Leander striving in these waves,
Poor soul forespent, whose force can do no more:
Now send forth hopes, for now calm pity saves.
And waft him to thee with those lovely eyes,
A happy convoy to a holy land;
Now show thy power and where thy virtue lies;
To save thine own, stretch out the fairest hand.
Stretch out the fairest hand a pledge of peace,
That hand that darts so right and never misses;
I'll not revenge old wrongs; my wrath shall cease;
For that which gave me wounds, I'll give it kisses.
Once let the ocean of my cares find shore,
That thou be pleas'd, and I may sigh no more.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Kindled Love
Dreams of my heart,
And of my soul passes me by,
Nothing seems to stay with me for so long:
But i have from childhood a deepest solace of music.
This life........; even dreams are fake,
It is rare that they become dear and fair,
For a thousand times has my heart been lifted up to the sky,
Then crushed down on earth with great velocity,
I cry a stream of tears............,
I moan as if a mighty thunder.............;
And then a mighty delude of hatred overflows in my heart,
But no matter how loveless i become.......,
No matter how dreamless i becme............,
There is always a spark of love in my heart,
That always ignites my faith into a flame of love.
Yet again i learn to forgive;
And still to love again.
poem by Moffat Mbuzi
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Love
Love is the sunlight of the soul,
That, shining on the silken-tressèd head
Of her we love, around it seems to shed
A golden angel-aureole.
And all her ways seem sweeter ways
Than those of other women in that light:
She has no portion with the pallid night,
But is a part of all fair days.
Joy goes where she goes, and good dreams—
Her smile is tender as an old romance
Of Love that dies not, and her soft eye’s glance
Like sunshine set to music seems.
Queen of our fate is she, but crowned
With purple hearts-ease for her womanhood.
There is no place so poor where she has stood
But evermore is holy ground.
An angel from the heaven above
Would not be fair to us as she is fair:
She holds us in a mesh of silken hair,
This one sweet woman whom we love.
We pray thee, Love, our souls to steep
In dreams wherein thy myrtle flowereth;
So when the rose leaves shiver, feeling Death
Pass by, we may remain asleep:
Asleep, with poppies in our hands,
From all the world and all its cares apart—
Cheek close to cheek, heart beating against heart,
While through Life’s sandglass run the sands
poem by Victor James Daley
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Love and Life at the Sea shore
A castle was built with sands
Many moments of love and care,
At the sea shore, how he dared?
But the boy brought it up with his hands.
A big wave brought it down.
It didn’t last, his moments of joy
How a blow could destroy
Saw the boy, his castle drowned.
He wept for long but stood up again.
Love and dreams, those around you
Bring you back in life too.
Collecting shells drove him when.
poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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Ocean of memories....
When one day missing you becomes unbearable
I will seek you out from deep within the ocean of my memories
Walk on the sands of time till it lead me to your sunkissed shores
Where our journey ended and love will once again be reborn
Here i will await your loving heart
I will gaze out across the ocean
Breathe in the winds of hope
Close my eyes and cast the nets of faith once more
Reel in the vision of bygone times
In one precious moment
I shall surrender my soul, my heart, my being
To the rememberance of the fragrance of your body
Rediscovering its secrets
I shall recall the waves to the shore
and bathe blissfully in the ocean of your memories
We shall become one
Dance to the rhythm of our heartbeats
Watch a million butterflies taking flight
Shimmering bubbles floating above us
Watch the sun as it rises and sets in eyes yours and mine
Embrace and behold the beauty of loves tidal wave
Ride the waves of ecstacy
Reaching a crescendo
As each wave of passion hits the shore
and we evanesce into sprays of pearls and water
Ultimately
just another dropp in the ocean of memories
Sea-Shells
I gathered shells upon the sand,
Each shell a little perfect thing,
So frail, yet potent to withstand
The mountain-waves' wild buffeting.
Through storms no ship could dare to brave
The little shells float lightly, save
All that they might have lost of fine
Shape and soft colour crystalline.
Yet I amid the world's wild surge
Doubt if my soul can face the strife,
The waves of circumstance that urge
That slight ship on the rocks of life.
O soul, be brave, for He who saves
The frail shell in the giant waves,
Will bring thy puny bark to land
Safe in the hollow of His hand.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Ebb-Tide
A sodden reach of wide and wind-swept lea,
A sky of shattered steel that palls the sight,
And one long shaft of sun that seems to write
Vast letters slowly on a slate of sea;
The dreary wail of gulls that skim the crest
Of sullen breakers sliding in to land,
A world grown empty, full of vague unrest,
And shadow-shapes that stride across the sand!
The gray beach widens. Foot by foot appear
Strange forms of wreckage creeping from the waves,
Like ghosts that steal in silence from their graves
To watch beside the death-bed of the year;
Poor shattered shapes of ships that once stood out
Full-freighted to the far horizon’s sweep
To music of the cheery sailor-shout
Of men who sought the wonders of the deep!
Poor shattered ships! Their gallant cruising o’er,
Their cargoes coral-crusted, leagues below,
They rise, unnamed, unnumbered, from the slow
Recession of the ebb along the shore.
The fickle tide, that bore them bravely then,
Betrays their shame and nakedness to be
Mute witness to the littleness of men
Who battle with the sovereignty of sea.
For me, as well, alone upon the dune,
There sinks a tide that strips the beaches bare,
And leaves but grim, unsightly wreckage where
The brooding skies make mockery of noon.
Ah, dear, that hopes, like tides, should ebb away,
Unmasking on the naked shore of love
Flotsam and jetsam of a happier day,
Dreams wrecked and all the emptiness thereof!
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1899)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In The Shallows
AMONG the shallows where the sand
Is golden and the waves are small,
I love to lie, and to my hand
How many little treasures fall!
What shells and seaweed grace the shore,
What happy birds on happy wings,
And for companions, what a store
Of humble, happy, living things!
Yet the sea's depths are also mine,
And in the old days I used to dive
Into the caves, where corals shine
And where the shimmering mer-folk live.
I am the master of the sea
In deeps where fairy flowers uncurl;
That treasure-house belongs to me,
Those amber halls, those stairs of pearl.
But now thereto I go no more,
Because of all the argosies,
Deep sunk upon the ocean floor,
Where all the world's lost treasure lies.
Where loveless laughter curls the lips
Of wild sea creatures at their sport
About the bones of noble ships,
My ships, that never came to port.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Dreamer
WHO seeks the shore where dreams outpour
Their floods in Slumber Seas
Lives all night long within a song
Of murmuring mysteries.
Where stars are lit above the pit
That holds the hollow dark,
Into their dawn he shall sail on
In an enchanted barque.
He shall not fear tho’ in his ear
The thrusting cranks of Time,
Thro’ blaze and gloom, with crash and boom,
Ring in tremendous rhyme,
Beyond the cloud that doth enshroud
Saturn with beauteous bands,
Where at the knees of Hyades
Creation claps her hands.
He shall bow low to God and know
Keen sorrow and delight,
The day’s full pride and eventide,
The inmost thoughts of night.
Into their calm white waves of balm
His soul shall plunge and swim,
Past silver-globed full moons unrobed
That float round Heaven’s rim.
He shall bow low to God and know
God, and be known of Him;
He shall surprise within the skies
The watching Seraphim.
He shall be known about the Throne
When names are named above,
As one redeemed through dreams he dreamed—
As one Beloved of Love.
poem by David MacDonald Ross
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The World
See, the world for youth prepares,
Harlot-like, her gaudy snares!
Pleasures round her seem to wait,
But 'tis all a painted cheat.
Rash and unsuspecting youth
Thinks to find thee always smooth,
Always kind, till better taught,
By experience dearly bought.
So the calm, but faithless sea
(Lively emblem, world, of thee)
Tempts the shepherd from the shore
Foreign regions to explore.
While no wrinkled wave is seen,
While the sky remains serene,
Fill'd with hopes, and golden schemes
Of a storm he little dreams.
But ere long the tempest raves,
Then he trembles at the waves;
Wishes then he had been wise,
But too late—he sinks and dies.
Hapless thus, are they, vain world,
Soon on rocks of ruin hurl'd,
Who admiring thee, untry'd,
Court thy pleasure. wealth, or pride.
Such a shipwreck had been mine,
Had not Jesus (name divine!)
Sav'd me with a mighty hand,
And restor'd my soul to land.
Now, with gratitude I raise
Ebenezers to his praise;
Now my rash pursuits are o'er,
I can trust thee, world, no more.
poem by John Newton
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Galleon Of Gold
And as I watch the breaking dawn
The sun begins to rise,
Above the scarlet clouds within
The early morning skies,
And as another day begins
My dreams I'll never hold,
Unless I sail across the ocean
In my galleon of gold.
I head out on a journey now
Not knowing where to go,
Searching for the rainbow's end
That never seems to show,
No treasure lies within my hand
My dreams I'll never hold,
Unless I sail across the ocean
In my galleon of gold.
Through seas so rough and stormy and
The winds that blow so strong,
I'll try to find the answers now
To where it all went wrong,
I'll search to find my destiny
My dreams I'll never hold,
Unless I sail across the ocean
In my galleon of gold.
I'll find a way to happiness
And leave this stony shore,
And far behind the past shall stay
My future waits before,
The stars will be my guiding light
My dreams I'll never hold,
Unless I sail across the ocean
In my galleon of gold.
poem by Andrew Blakemore
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Dreams We Had
Dreams we had
as a youth,
dreams long gone.
Dreams not fulfilled,
only talk was done,
dreams faded away.
Walk toward your dreams,
not away from them,
dreams can become real.
Your youth only stays
for a short moment,
then like a vapor, its gone.
Chase your dreams now,
no matter what anyone may say,
dreams can come true.
A Song for Old Love
There shall be a song for both of us that day
Though fools say you have long outlived your songs,
And when, perhaps, because your hair is grey,
You go unsung, to whom all praise belongs,
And no men kiss your hands--your fragile hands
Folded like empty shells on sea-spurned sands.
And you that were dawn whereat men shouted once
Are sunset now, but with one worshipper,
Then to your twilight heart this song shall be
Sweeter than those that did your youth announce
For your brave beautiful spirit is lovelier
Than once your lovely body was to me.
Your folded hands and your shut eyelids stir
A passion that Time has crowned with sanctity.
Young fools shall wonder why, your youth being over,
You are so sung still, but your heart will know
That he who loved your soul was your true lover
And the last song alone was worthy you.
poem by Muriel Stuart
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In Thee I Trust
Thee has created me with love,
To love.
Thou has forgiven my sins
As vast as the ocean
My only true love
In Thee I depend
For waking each morn’
My daily sustanance
To Thee I pray
Ever so humble and thankful
For my every blessing received
I kneel to Thee
Thee sent Rumi in my dreams
To show me the way
The narrow ledge I am to cross
He showed me how
Swifty without fear
Of what lies below
He showed me how to fly inThine Mercy
And truly “yaqeen” in Thee
My beloved creator
Who knows the depth of my heart
To Thee
I leave all my affairs
My every thought,
Am consumed by Thee
My heart echoes Thy name
My life in Thine hands
In Thee lies my destiny
To Thee I yearn to return
Pure of heart and soul...
poem by Persian Khushi
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The Art Of Rejection
There is an Art to 'rejection'
First they 'hook you in'
With tales of love and words of 'I love you'
The sugary sweet pill of flattery
Of making coral shine from broken shells
Knowing all to well
Such fragile beauty
Could not bear the lightening breakers
Mountain storms
Until tempest tossed
You lie on stony shores
Bone on bone
salt ravished flesh
Your dry lung cannot breath without the 'other'
There is an 'Art to rejection'
First they hook you in
with soft bait
And looks that catches your approval
Knowing your fragile beauty
Cannot withstand
The windswept mouth of deserts
The hundred clasping hands and tiny mouths
That drink you dry
Until
Bone on bone you lie
yvette m smith dec 08
poem by Yvette Smith
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