At The Water's Edge
At the water’s edge, I stop and stand for a while.
Lost in thought, my face wears a hint of a smile.
Chalky cliffs are covered with a white, misty veil;
To spot them, in the distance, you could almost fail.
Across the sea’s surface, waves restlessly roam;
They break, and create lots of thick, frothy foam.
The water laps against the shore in a wavy line;
The lines of land and sea, are difficult to define.
My toes sink deep into the dark, sodden sand,
At the very point, where the sea meets the land.
The sand is peppered with pebbles and sea shells.
Nearby, I hear a child’s excited squeals and yells.
I scoop up a handful of water: it’s as cold as ice;
It sparkles in the sunlight, which looks rather nice.
Salty seawater rains down from my frozen fingers;
Suspended in mid air, for a split second, it lingers.
Under the sultry sun, the sea glimmers and glistens.
To the seagulls’ rowdy, raucous cries, I love to listen.
Being barefooted by the water’s edge is so very tactile;
The joy experienced is the same for both man and child.
Looking back up the beach, I spy the silken sand dunes;
When walked upon, the sands sing, and play little tunes.
I love being by the sea; I love the sights and the sounds;
Being by the sea, is one of the best ever feelings around.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Related quotes
Ocean Breakers
She went to water;
she always did.
The heaving ocean
matched her heavy breathing;
it was a Ocean of Tears
like hers.
The swells crash
against the shore
relentlessly;
life was relentless too.
The foam;
Anger in the Water that day.
She went to water
she always did,
moving among the sand dunes,
face against the wind.
The sea gulls overhead;
caw! caw! caw!
She lifts her arms,
the wind blows her sleeves
making a flapping sound;
she could hear whispers
between the breakers,
she could hear weeping
among the retreating waves.
She stood there
on the Edge of Forever.
There is no end to the ocean.
Every day it calls to the Sun
and makes it rise.
.
Every night it extinguishes it.
She could walk to China;
she could
and no one would know;
no one would know.
The voice said
'I thought I would find you here'
Waves crashing
more soothing now
two tracks in the sand.
Sad swells
rise again
and retreat;
time and ocean breaks
bring them back together again.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Lost At Sea.
You remember now the sound of the sea,
The crashing of waves, the white and grey
Gulls in the sky. Mother said, don’t go too
Far out; keep an eye on the young ones.
The cold water made you hop about when
It first went over your bare feet. You knew
Where the young ones were, you could see
Them there at the water’s edge running in
And out as the cold water chased them.
The beach was crowded; the crowds seemed
To occupy each area with their deckchairs,
Windbreakers and towels spread on the sand.
The bright sun shone down heavily; the air
Was still. And Mother’s voice loudly shouting,
Where’s Baba? Where’s she gone? And the
Place she was with the others was without
Her presence now; the panic gripped you.
Your eyes scanned the beach and sea; you ran
Along the beach near the water’s edge gazing
Out at the wide expanse of ocean, ignoring the
Passing ships on the horizon, the sailing boats,
The far out swimmers, just looking for Baba,
Your eyes searching each face, each child, every
Little one running on the beach or out at sea out
Of reach. Mother came running down the beach
Towards you, her face red with effort, her mouth
Screaming out words carried off by the other
Sounds and the sea’s call, pointing out at ocean’s
Hold as a man came up and out of the waves,
Water dripping, eyes wide, and in his arms, Baba
Limp and her swaying head, hair hanging wet,
Seeming lost to you, small arms swinging, dead.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Man Parts the Water
The man parts the water with a simple stone,
turning when the laughter
of a child retraces the shattered waves.
The man remembers with a smile
the days when he walked the shore,
dancing with silver-eyed seagulls, and he
was always looking ahead as he
stands and tilts releasing stone,
watching it sail through the misty shore.
The child parts the water with shrieking laughter,
and dreams about the day he will knowingly smile
as his cocked man-hand reaches the stormy waves.
Watching the moon pull the scornful waves
that kick the sand onto the shore, now he’s
the ghost of a child that stands with a smile.
He parts the water with a simple stone,
listening to the moon’s blue shaken laughter
at a man awaiting his golden hour upon the murky shore.
The grains whisper into the wind. And the shore
is crowded with memories of waves,
filling a young boy’s face with laughter.
It permeates the darkness, yet he
still craves the stone
to bring the man’s euphoric smile.
Caught in a moment without laughter or smiles,
walking along the shore
he wishes upon a simple stone
for another chance to play and frolic in waves.
The child sees his reflection with an anxious smile, and he
becomes a man between the laughter.
And he will always remember the laughter,
and he will always long for an innocent smile
of waiting for the day that unknowingly he
could never return to the shore.
Churning as it breaks the waves,
the past is left in simple stone.
But for now there is laughter upon the shore,
riding along the whispering waves,
the child’s future still a simple stone.
(- for Nicolas Mathew)
poem by Matt Ullman
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Dripping Water
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the horizon of heaven,
on the land, on the sand,
makes me happy, and so elated,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the dark black clouds,
on the leaves, on the tress,
gives them a slow quick bath,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the thunderstruck light,
on the eyes, on the cheeks,
makes everyone to turn the face up!
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the beauty of sky,
onthe mud, on the rivers,
makes musical splashes when gets strike,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the love of vast scream,
to the beautiful murmors of land,
makes me sing, and dance.
poem by Tayyeba Mustafa
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A walk along the beach...
The sight of sunlight glinting on the water dazzling,
The sound of waves advancing softly on the sand,
The feeling of the suns warming kiss on my skin,
The cool dampness of the sand between my toes,
The gentle breeze moving through my hair,
Slipping across the water a yacht gliding silently,
The breeze filled sails carrying her to deeper waters,
Above me seagulls swirl singing their daily song,
Before diving down into the sea to snatch a fish,
The gentle breeze and warming sun feeding my soul,
The captivating pleasures of sight and sound so delightful,
I breathe in the wonderful scent of salt water that fills the air,
The intoxicating aroma of wildflowers thick along the cliffs,
A feeling of contentment fills every corner of my being,
As I walk along the beach I realise... Life is beauty...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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To parents
Come back, swim back… I need you…
When I stood a child upon the seashore
waving through the tears as first
the one and then the other
was taken by the tide until
no longer visible in that dark sea
too vasty to be thought about…
then turned, and ran back up the beach
to meet and greet my life..
that was, as it was; but now
I run back to the water’s edge
shouting come back... I never knew you,
I’m grown up now, I want to meet you,
ask you all the things I never asked,
tell you all the things I never dared,
look you in your fierce, sad eyes…
come back, swim back, I need you,
for I’m grown up now; I can love you
without restraint; give love not ask for it…
or must I wait, until the tide
laps feet, then knees, then heart, then sight…
to join you in that dark unknownness which
may be, may be, an even greater love
than that which stands here at the water’s edge
as the evening water darkens,
shouting swim back, swim back…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Water's Edge
Wet salt sand, water’s edge
Rushing sound of surf and rolling sea.
As if each wave were a deep deep breath
And the surt but a gentle exhalation
The breeze light over the ocean arriving from who knows where
With messages of calm.
The sun playing games with the fragile whisps of clouds
Hide and seek, catch me if you can games
And the smells and the scents and fragrances
Telling of the world beyond and along and backing onto that shore line.
Messages not in a bottle but of the world
The world of the gentle and the strong
Of the motionless and the moving
Where a simple line marks out clear
What is far and what is near.
Gazing out to sea
Just me
And the shore
And the water’s edge
And the sun
And the breeze
And the swirl of senses
That chase clouds and roll and rush and whisper
At that wet salt sand water’s edge
This all comes to me.
poem by David Keig
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Overlooking Life
When I die I will miss the beach
The cool sensation of the salty breeze against your face,
Walking along the shore trying to find that perfect sea shell,
Building sandcastles even if you are a little too old!
Laying on the hot sand soaking up the sun,
The feel of wet sand squishing between your toes,
Diving in to the bubbly water,
I hope there is a beach in heaven.
poem by Kallie Gamble
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A Walk By The Water
As the thick foam disperses, it looks as though
A section of sea has been covered with white lace.
As one lot of water withdraws from the shore,
With another wave of water, it is rapidly replaced.
Along the shore, feeling lonely and abandoned,
Are rows of beach huts, and a few wooden boats;
Their once brightly coloured, perfect paintwork,
Is now peeling, and looks in need of a new coat.
The rows of beach huts, which I pass by,
Are painted colours of every possible hue.
The huts are unique: no two are the same;
There is purple, peach, and pale pink too.
Dozens of dogs race around the deserted beach;
Each of them seems to have such endless energy.
Dogs dart around here, there, and everywhere,
Barking loudly with joy, now that they're free.
Amusement arcades are closed for the season.
Only a handful of beach cafes are open for trade;
During the summer months, they make much money,
But, come the winter, and their business quickly fades.
Brightly coloured buoys bob about in the bolshy ocean;
Of impending danger, they warn any approaching ships.
I walk into the freezing wind, which blows into my face;
My cheeks are like ice to touch, and I have tingling lips.
Deep patches of displaced sand from the beach,
Now softly cushion my ever slowing, tired tread.
On the tarmac, my feet rhythmically Tap! Tap! Tap!
But on the sand, the sound is suddenly cut stone dead.
Before I make my way back up in to the town,
I face towards the sea to capture one last thought;
It is then that I spot a young man on the beach,
Being photographed in nothing but his shorts!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Summer At The Beach
It is late morning and I arrive at the beach,
Which is alive with so many sights, sounds and smells.
The sound of the rhythmic waves can be heard,
As can the sound of children's excited whoops and yells.
The sea glints and glitters in the shining sun.
The feel of wet sand beneath my feet is pure bliss.
Just being here enlivens all of my senses
And the feeling is way too good to miss.
The surfers are out and about in full force,
Hoping with their hearts to catch the waves they crave.
Lifeguards keep watch from the beach that all is well
And anyone they see getting into difficulty, they'll save.
Dogs splash around at the water's edge.
They shake their coats; the droplets drench like rain.
Then, having splashed everything in sight,
They race back down to the water and dash back in again!
Small yachts can be seen way out to sea;
Their white sails glinting like pure snow.
A speed boat zig zags, zipping across the bay,
Leaving a frothy white trail as it goes.
The cries of seagulls can be heard
As they wheel around on the lookout for a bite to eat.
Discarded bits of sandwich, doughnut or crisps
Are often found and for them make a tasty treat.
Walking and talking or just lost in their thoughts,
People stroll along the seemingly endless prom.
Losing all track of time and distance,
Amazed when they look back to see where they've walked from.
Children are splashing about in the sea,
Or building sandcastles of every kind,
While others go off exploring the rock pools
Full of excited anticipation of what they may find.
Some people are happy to sit in the sun
On a towel or on a sun lounger and relax,
While others like to play sports or games,
Wanting to live their lives to the very max!
At the kiosks along the front, there are massive queues
Buying chips, burgers, doughnuts, popcorn and soft drinks.
Sat in their stripy deckchairs outside their beach huts,
People read the paper or try to catch forty winks.
People are sat on the patio outside the pub on the prom,
Eating and drinking and busily chatting away.
With the warm summer sun kissing their skin,
They wish this moment would last all day.
Sunny days like these really lift your mood,
And it's a shame we don't see much of this weather.
But when these sun-drenched days do come along,
You wish they could go on for ever and ever!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Skimmers
As a boy he used to toss
flat rocks on the water
of the farm dam or nearby lake
watching them skim
over the surface
only touching here and there
and there was some magic
in the leaping
almost right across the water surface.
The wind whirls up tiny whirlwinds
running out before him on the beach,
a lonely boy is tossing shells into the air
which are blown back in a curling flight,
sand hits legs, arms and the body
stinging like sandpaper,
in the distance skimmers are eating from shells
near to green-blue hued pools,
with some flying low over the sea
and he flings his thoughts back to many years,
thinking again and again
about a world that has changed with time
how he changed from an innocent believing child
to the mature successful man
but his life is empty and he is here to find something.
[Reference: Skimmers by Ted Walker.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Solitude On The Beach
I walk alone where we once walked,
the sand between my toes,
memories stalk my mind.
I look to the ocean, so endless.
Will I ever understand why
this ended so suddenly?
The waves crash, reminding me
of the sand castle we built.
It had to fall sometime,
and I guess our love had to fall too.
Why so soon? Why like this?
It seems like just yesterday.
The waves spray cold water
and I realize it's time to go.
Solitude on the beach will always be
my only connection to you
Since you are miles away
sleeping with the golden sun
and I am here on earth
left with only solitude on the beach.
Down in the deep water..
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where I ponder my life
Just how did I get to this
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where the waterfall of dreams
Sweeps away what’s left to the abyss
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where time stands still
just only forever.
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where I buried all
That was ever my childhood
Where I let it go,
Where it bends and meanders,
Twisting along as the years went past.
Seemingly calm, but screaming beneath the surface
Were its hidden whirlpools, a sweeping current
Down in the deep water,
I left the edge of the river,
As I looked down
For my soul at the bottom.
Deep in the deep water
Swept away by the river
I drowned in life,
......Sinking forever.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Somewhere Precious
A sun bleached fence facing the sea.
Sand dunes, sea grass, on windblown shore.
Seagulls hovering, wings spread wide,
calling as they’ve done times before.
A welcome break from hard routine.
A pressure gone, a restful spell.
Sitting with backs against the slats,
of this stockade, with fears to quell.
When last we surveyed the blue sea,
the tide was laundering the sands.
As up the beach we watched it race,
and touched its ripples with our hands.
Cool salty air invades weak lungs,
giving us a refreshing lift.
With tickling grains between our toes,
our relaxed minds begin to drift.
The water surging to and fro,
Gives a pleasant hypnotic sound.
Shingle, shale, rocks and cliffs that soar,
is somewhere precious that we’ve found.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Toes
The current is strong from what I've heard
It'll whisk you down the stream
But I never seem to have the time
So my toes just touch the water
So my toes just touch the water
Daydreamed on the bank again
I was swimming with the fish
And I thought this time that it may be true
But my toes just touched the water
But my toes just touched the water
But my toes just touched the water
Walked a mile just to find the edge
Some place low enough
To step right in
Now I'm here and I can't begin
To move
Walked a mile just to find the edge
Some place low enough
To step right in
Now I'm here and I can't begin
To move
That spoiled sun up over there
Always has to have its way
And now I know that the river's there to shelter me
But my toes just touch the water
But my toes just touch the water
But my toes just touch the water
song performed by by Norah Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The tide
A tide rolls in
An edge
Bettween sand and water
A sun sets
Shining light from mountain to sky
In shadows of restraint I weep
My strength and soul wanders weak
A water fall of empty salty tears
In pools of inspiration lost
As hands of silence choke the seed
My dreams and aspiration tossed
Behind the fog of doubt
Ill stand, my self esteem renews.
A place to freely write
The joy of a capture
Crystallization of human feelings
In the words on this page
My pen can stand all still.
Like water, from a fountain.
poem by Howard Johnson
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Eternal torque
subtle waves
move water
little stones
sand grains
slightly move along
for a moment
settling down
on the sandy bottom
of the sea
or the wet beach
they all reflect
the light
if they are in sight
of the sun
while hiddenin sand
waiting for the moment
the land above them
is on the move again
everything is about to change
that next wave
causes an earthquake
in that little world
of stones, water, sand and sea
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Sinking..
Down in the water
By the edge of the river
where I ponder my life
just how did I get to this
Down in the water
By the edge of the river
where the waterfall of dreams
sweeps away what’s left to the abyss
Down in the water
by the edge of the river
where time stands still
Just only forever.
Down in the water
by the edge of the river
where I buried all
that was ever childhood
Where I let it go,
where it bends and meanders,
twisting along as the years went past.
Seemingly calm, but screaming beneath the surface
were its hidden whirlpools, a sweeping current
Down in the water,
I left the edge of the river,
as I looked down
for my soul at the bottom.
Deep in the water
Swept away by the river
I drowned in life,
......sinking forever.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Water Wings
Water Wings
I am of the water, and my dreams foretell my home.
I have dreamt of the water, it is where my mind does roam.
Life manages our paths by the steps that we take,
I want my path to lead to the ocean, where the waves do break.
The water glistens in my soul, and runs through my veins,
And when I am one with the water, I carry the reigns.
Whether on or under or flying above,
The water is my passion, it is my true love.
I wake from the night, from my hopes and my dreams
I wake to find a world with all water themes.
Surrounded by love and caressed by the air
I see the lord has accepted my little dare.
My dreams have become life, and I have transformed.
I am now an angel of the sea, and water wings I have formed.
The ocean, the sea, the lakes and rivers blue
They give me my strength and my life they do fuel.
My water wings glide and are as smooth as ice,
They are gift from the heavens and they much more than suffice.
I sit here and I rest, on the shore of the land,
Knowing, the lord is my savior, and my biggest fan.
poem by Rik Bertrand
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On This Beach...
Life is a beach.
There are jellyfish. And sea urchins…the painful bumps along the road that we all encounter in life. On this beach.
In life..and on a beach there is warm water-like times, when we are happy, and have good times and enjoy living. On this beach.
We also have times, like a beach, when we have cold water times; when we are sad, or upset about losing someone or something. On this beach.
There are rough times, the same way the sea has rough water that pounds angrily against the shore. On this beach.
Life, like the sea, has high and low times, or tides. There is low tide when you think u can no longer go on, that life has done too much damage to you. Then the tide comes back in…and you are reminded that life goes on. Life gets better. You cannot give up on life, like you can’t give up on a beach because of a rough day or low tides. On this beach.
Life has sharks. Maybe not the same sharks from a beach, but they are there. They are the people that thrive on your pain and tears and hardship, the same way a shark sustains itself through brutal killing of unaware seals who don’t know what is coming or how bad it is. The sharks are there. Waiting. For someone…for you…like an unsuspecting seal, to come along and unknowingly become trapped in their lies and hurt. On this beach.
Life…has good times. Wonderful times where the only thoughts you have are about how much life is worth living and how much you love life. It is like the clear, cool blue water on a beautiful day at the beach. On this beach.
Life has those amazing people….akin to the beachgoers on a sandy shore…just along for the ride…to enjoy the good…and pack up and leave when it rains or something goes wrong. But there are the surfers..the daredevils…going back into the fear and love of the sea….of life. They risk the sharks, and jellyfish, and rough water and low and high tides, not because they are invincible, but because they know about the good that is to be had in this world. On this beach.
Life is so comparable to a beach…most importantly in that it has sand like a beach. Billions upon billions of unique grains of sand, like the 7 billion different people in this world, on this beach.
poem by Dark Fallout
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