A Day Out By The Sea
Sitting on a deck chair
on the sand by the sea,
watching castles being built,
with a bucket and spade.
Children dance through each wave
that wanders to the shore.
Seagulls swirl above our heads,
waiting for some morsel to fall.
Babies with coloured hats,
eyes trying to take everything in.
A day at the beach,
a relaxing time for all.
Ice lollies on their sticks,
melting under the sun.
People of all ages race
to the waters edge,
then splash and frolic there,
on a day out by the sea.
11 June 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
On the Beach
The waves race up the shore,
and then retreat quickly.
It’s hard to tell what they seek
or what they leave behind.
Children paddle at the waters edge
and then scramble to higher ground.
Making believe each in coming wave
is chasing after them.
Seagulls fly overhead,
looking down upon it all,
waiting to swoop down,
should any child let his ice cream fall.
The parents with newspapers sheltering their heads
are so unaware of the dramas played out there,
as children play,
happily on the beach.
(29 May 2007)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beach
Sitting on the beach with my feet in the sand
Letting the song of the ocean clear my mind of ever thing
Sitting on the beach with my feet in the sand
Watching the surfers chase the perfect wave
Sitting on the beach with my feet in the sand
Watching the sun set on yet another perfect day
poem by Ron St Jean
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Down By The Sea
Where the tumbling frothing surf,
Meets the sand dunes' spiky turf,
And daring seagulls dive and screech,
Above the sunny sandy beach,
Inventive children with bucket and spade,
Run down from the esplanade.
Lobster pots are drawn up to dry,
Beneath the blue and breezy sky,
And seaweed waiting for the tide,
Lies still, with nowhere else to hide,
And the tangy, salty languid air,
Makes one want to stand and stare.
A crab who liked the noonday heat,
Makes a speedy fast retreat,
As all his space has been invaded,
By humans looking for a shaded
Place to sit, and rest, and play,
On this hot shifting sand, today.
Then wafting gentle winds whose kiss,
Anoint our bodies with cooling bliss,
As through the hours of burning sun,
We try to get our tans well done.
They, nowhere else, could better be,
Than on the shore, down by the sea.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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To survive me
I built castles after castles
That went one after the other
By their own weight and time.
I built them of sand, living on shores.
That is the fact I have known of late.
I haven’t left my efforts.
I now make footprints deep
In sand for them to survive me.
08.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Soul By The Sea
Walking barefoot on the beach,
Collecting shells within my reach.
The sun shines brightly upon the sea
And I’ve never felt so free.
Breathing in the salty air,
Calm, serene, not a single care.
There is no better remedy
Than being by the soulful sea.
Children’s castles in the sand,
Lovers walking hand in hand.
An atmosphere of serenity
For all the souls beside the sea.
Seagulls soaring way up high,
Yachts and fishing boats sailing by.
I’m where my soul was meant to be;
Overlooking the deep blue sea.
The tide comes in, the waves leap high
And splash the rocks that once were dry.
My heart and soul sing with such glee
When I feel the power of the sea.
My spirit was born by the seaside
And here forever it will reside,
For I never feel so happy and free
As when my soul is by the sea.
© 9th June 2007
poem by Melanie Ann Calvert
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Beach Chairs
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the setting sun
holding hands and reminiscing
how it all begun
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the ships out on the sea
holding hands and smiling
together we're meant to be
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching people walking past
holding hands and knowing
that our love will always last
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the waves along the shore
holding hands we realize
our love is stronger than before
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the changing tide
holding hands with happiness
to be by each others side
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the sunrise
holding hands with tears of joy
there are no more good-byes
poem by Joyce Ebrecht
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Down to the beach
Down to the beach
Down to the beach
On a sunny day we go
Beach bags packed with sun screen lotions
Hands rubbing people’s backs in slow motion
Glistening oily bodies radiating with sensation
Down to the beach
Down to the beach
Where a chilly sea breeze blows
Let’s have some fun
In the red-hot sun
Down to the beach
Only there the ladies reveal saucy behinds
Whenever the raging sun is still kind
Down to the beach
As never-ceasing waves play across the shores
People happily play dreading any rainy downpour
Down to the beach
Where young lovers closely nestle
As sand creatures cause the sand to bristle
Seagulls gliding in the air with screams and whistles
Kids picking up shells and building stormy sand castles
Down to the beach
Where mostly good vibes flow
Down to the beach
We go whilst there is still sun without snow
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Mole On My Thigh
Sitting on a sandy beach,
under a tropical sun,
watching the palm trees sway.
While someone with a romantic guitar,
serenades a couple of sweethearts,
locked in a loving embrace there.
I look around at the empty space,
there beside me,
wishing you were here with me.
Instead of a thousand miles away,
in the rain with someone else.
It takes two to start an argument,
both are guilty, not just one.
You walked away from my arms,
straight into his waiting there.
His smile looked more like a callous grin,
he had won and I had lost,
or at least that is what I thought.
Then came the telegram this morning,
to say you were coming here,
that you and he were through.
I can only wonder what went wrong.
So here, I am again sitting on the sand,
and then there along the beach I see you.
I wave and you come running,
straight towards me.
I stand, smile, and stretch out my arms,
all ready to catch you,
but you keep running passed.
I raise an eyebrow and looked around,
as into someone else’s arm you glide.
I scratch my head, get ready to sit down,
a tap on my shoulder,
makes me look around and there is you.
But who is that over there?
My twin sister, you replied.
I closed my eyes and give a grown.
Twins! Identical twins! I stuttered.
But how can I tell you apart?
She smiled, by the mole on my thigh.
All I could say was,
Oh my…
OH my…
OH my…
! 6 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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Curling Waters
The tide rolls in on curling waters,
then stretches its fingers to touch the shore.
It hisses as each wave breaks
and its white waters pound against
the sands and rolling stones.
We can sit for hours watching
its endless race
to see which finger
can go farthest up the shore.
Its waters then retreat
as a new wave takes its place.
25 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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A Harsh Mistress
The call of the seagulls,
near the edge of the sea,
is the lure that attracts men
to their boats to test the sea.
Waves dance a beckoning call, their waters to explore.
Therefore, men set off in their boats
to answer the wandering call.
However, to many a man
the sea maybe a mistress,
to others it is their downfall.
The sea can be a harsh mistress,
to some who come to call,
as they make time there forever,
deep in that watery bed
The storms she creates,
when angry,
has sealed many good men,
to an eternal fate.
So be warned my friends,
before you fall for the siren’s call.
The sea can be a harsh mistress.
10 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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Bucket T
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Found her in a barn in tennessee
I paid five bucks for my bucket t
Took me three years of sweat and blood
To clean off all that tennessee mud
Chorus:
My bucket t (bucket t)
Bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
T t t... bucket bucket bucket...
Cruise down the street in front of school
I wanna rev it up but I gotta be cool
Drivin down the road Ill get my kicks
Apoppin the clutch and aslippin the sticks
[chorus]
I was right, too, shes first in her class
Theres nothing on the freeway she dont pass
All the girls want to take a ride with me
But theres only one seat in my bucket t
[chorus]
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Sand Castle And Our Magic Bond
Was the sunset and almost coming night,
Me and you sitting at the sea side and the seagulls are flying around,
Horizon in red highlights is hiding sun behind,
Sea seems so romantic in the moonlight dance.
We built from sand a castle,
We made a solid ground and built the walls around,
Our hands were merging together,
We belived in our dream, in our ideal.
Waves came and washed away our castle,
Nothing was left behind,
Only our love remains forever,
You and me and our magic bond.
Our sand castle was swept to shore,
We can't see it no more,
But what we built together,
It will be kept as a tresure in the heart.
Nothing in this life lasts forever,
From our material living world,
Only love and spirit values,
Are the eternal, never-ending truth.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Summer Snapshot
High up in the sky, the sun is shining.
Outside restaurants, people are dining.
Over the sea, sailboats are dashing.
Against the shore, waves are crashing.
Up in the sky, seagulls are screeching.
Up to the sun, flowers are reaching.
In the park, children are playing.
In the breeze, branches are swaying.
From car windows, music is blaring.
More of their bodies, people are bearing.
Down at the beach, people are bathing:
A nice, healthy tan, they are all craving.
Through the sky, birds are flying.
On the clothesline, washing is drying.
Along the roads, cars are queuing.
In bed, at night, people are stewing.
To peoples' bodies, clothes are sticking.
Frozen ice lollies, children are licking.
Their garden borders, people are weeding.
Ducks, on the river, children are feeding.
Strawberries and cream, people are eating.
Friends, for a drink, people are meeting.
In their back gardens, people are sitting.
Through the air, butterflies are flitting.
Over at Wimbledon, there is tennis.
Of themselves, wasps make a menace.
Ice cold drinks, people are sipping,
In the playground, girls are skipping.
People eat chips with fish in crisp batter.
Over at Henley, there is a Royal Regatta.
Of our summer, when the weather is hot,
The above, make up merely a snapshot.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Sandcastles
While sifting through old photographs
Of childhood, black and white,
I came across a scene that stirred
My memory, overnight,
Three children by a sandcastle,
The finest ever made,
My sister, me and Hazel,
Made with bucket, and with spade,
With towers, crenellations
And surrounded by a moat,
The sand was dry, the tide was out
It stood there proud, remote.
Though sixty years have passed since then,
That camera shutter's sight
Caught just one random moment in
An afternoon's delight,
It froze that moment of our lives,
That castle on the sand,
And though the tide swept in that day
That castle, still it stands,
While we watched as the sands of time
Wrought havoc in our lives,
The moat we built could not protect
From husbands, or from wives.
The tide swept in and filled the moat,
The sides began to melt,
The water undermined the walls
And suddenly, they fell,
The love that we had built them with
Was washed right out to sea,
And left no sign of love behind,
For Hazel, Tess or me,
And then we learned the lesson
That our lives revolved around,
That nothing built will last unless
It's built on solid ground.
We spent our lives in dreaming
Building castles in the sand,
Believing that the tide would never turn
To wreck our plans,
We thought love was the answer
'Til discovering, too late,
That love swings on a pendulum,
The other end is hate,
And just as tides flow in and out
And level out the land,
The tides of life wreak havoc with
Our castles in the sand.
7 February 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Act Our Age
On a sun kissed beach,
we frolic our time away,
playing assorted games
as kids we used to play.
People stop and stare
at two old people playing in the sand,
wondering when we will grow up
and act our age again.
We just carry on having fun
the way we used to do
with both our minds on one thing
and that is me and you.
Age may have stolen our youth,
but our spirits are still young.
We can still frolic in the sand
and have a lot of fun.
29 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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Working Metaphore
Work is like an island in an ocean of time
Landing on this shore felt like paradise
But the island is small and quickly grows boring
I am standing in the water, looking out as I work
Time passes in portions of half an hour
Wave upon wave of life slipping down the tide-line
I am deciding whether to let go and wash away with it
Or hold on and climb the beach again
How many islands are in this ocean?
I gaze out and see a few just waiting for me
Can I swim to them, will they take me?
In the water between them, is there love lurking?
Changes are on the horizon, as a tsunami
Rolling towards this island invisibly, towards me
None of the islands will survive it, I fear
Or maybe only I will be washed away into oblivion
Tick, splash, tick, splash, wave upon wave of half hours
Carrying me just a little further from the dry sand
Behind me, the managers are calling from the trees
I hesitate for a moment, and let the waves wash over me
Only a few more, and I can swim for a while,
I might ride the changes to a far away place if I'm swimming
In the water I can meet another, to drown my regrets of the last
The waves wash over me, and I wait for the tide to swim
poem by Poet Dragon
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I Caught Fire
Seemed to stop my breath
My head on your chest
Waiting to cave in
From the bottom of my...
Hear your voice again
Could we dim the sun
And wonder where we've been
Maybe you and me
So kiss me like you did
My heart stopped beating
Such a softer sin
(I'm melting, I'm melting)
In your eyes
I lost my place
Could stay a while
And I'm melting
In your eyes
Like my first time
That I caught fire
Just stay with me
Lay with me
Now
Never caught my breath
Every second I'm without you I'm a mess
Ever know each other
Trust these words are stones
why cuts aren't healing
Learning how to love
I'm melting (I'm melting)
In your eyes
I lost my place
Could stay a while
And I'm melting
In your eyes
Like my first time
That I caught fire
Just stay with me
Lay with me
(Stay with me lay with me now)
You could stay and watch me fall
And of course I'll ask for help
Just stay with me now
Take my hand
We could take our heads off
stay in bed just make love that's all
Just stay with me now
I'm melting (I'm melting)
In your eyes
I lost my place
Could stay a while
and I'm melting
In your eyes
Like my first time
That I caught fire
Just stay with me
Lay with me
In your eyes
I lost my place
Could stay a while
and I'm melting
In your eyes
Like my first time
That I caught fire
Just stay with me lay with me
(Stay with me, lay with me)
In your eyes
Let's sleep till the sun burns out
I'm melting in your eyes (I'm melting in your eyes)
Let's sleep till the sun burns out
I'm melting in your eyes
song performed by by Used
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Beach or Not To Beach
The beach, for some a burst of bravado,
for others a bath of brilliance.
Sand-coated with lotion and encompassed with cellulite,
I enviously gaze around me.
Bikini bronzed bodies swarm the beach,
while children are amused with sand-castles and beach balls.
Invading music blares from the neighbouring umbrellas,
and with a headache developing,
I cringingly approach the waves.
Mulitcoloured surfboards ride the towering waves,
and currently joined by eager faces,
we duck and dive in time to each wave.
For a cure to the killer salt in one’s mouth.,
I recommend the common beach ice cream
and armed with my overflowing towel,
I retreat for the day.
A fiery sunset is the perfect ending for any beach experience.
as footprints are imprinted on the moist sea sand,
some will experience feelings of tranquil peace,
Others, feelings of physical pain…
poem by Margaret Purslow
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I Will
I will
Lay me down
In a bunker
Underground
I won't let this happen to my children
Meet the real world coming out of your shell
With white elephants
Sitting ducks
I will
rise up
Little babies eyes eyes eyes eyes
Little babies eyes eyes eyes eyes
Little babies eyes eyes eyes eyes
Little babies eyes eyes eyes
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Port Fairy In January
Port Fairy in January on a warm and humid saturday
The beach full of people the young splash and play
In the shallows where the small waves splash onto the beach
In a place safe to swim where the life savers can reach
Anyone who gets in trouble and for help have to shout
To the beach for safety they will drag them out
And if necessary so give them mouth to mouth
The worth of the Life Saver is never in doubt
In the prime of the Summer at the start of the New Year
When people still enjoy the Seasonal cheer
Ageing and younger people and many girl and boy
A dip in salt-water do seem to enjoy
People of all ages and colours and mostly every Race
Make Port Fairy in January quite a busy place.
poem by Francis Duggan
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