Skinny-Dipping (Fun Poem 100)
The footprints in the sand
told the story of two lovers
that danced along a deserted shore
to go skinny-dipping in a place
where no skinny-dipping had been done before.
They left their clothes upon the rocks,
but forgot about the tide.
While they had their swim,
the tide came in and washed their clothes away.
Now back down the beach they dance
with only hands to hide their bare bits there
and red faces to hide their embarrassment.
11 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
This Is America
America is a free country and always will be,
why then do they have a law against skinny dipping?
You can smoke till your blue in the face,
die from lung cancer which spreads all over the place.
Do you die from skinny dipping outside?
I guess, we are a society that is more civilized.
But wait, the island in the south pacific don’t have
much crime, like rape like we do all the time.
So what you deny and hide,
becomes shameful and a crime.
Written By Christina Sunrise On February 4,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skinny Dipping
You told me to go jump in the lake!
And after doing so,
I had a taste to demonstrate...
A desire to learn,
What it was you really wished.
Other than to see me skinny dipping.
You then hinted in pretense to be left alone.
And when I got home...
You called me on the telephone!
And I left it to ring, ring, ring.
You told me to go jump in the lake!
And after doing so,
I had a taste to demonstrate...
A desire to learn,
What it was you really wished.
Other than to see me skinny dipping.
You joined me.
And skinny dipped we did.
Until you got a sight...
Of my increasing appetite.
You left me quick!
Dressed and split.
Screaming as if hit...
That what I had you couldn't fit.
Or could not think...
Of handling,
My thick equipment.
You then hinted in pretense to be left alone.
And when I got home...
You called me on the telephone!
And I left it to ring, ring, ring.
You told me to go jump in the lake!
And after doing so,
I had a taste to demonstrate...
A desire to learn,
What it was you really wished.
Other than to see me skinny dipping.
And when I gathered my thoughts,
After feeling distraught.
I knew then what it was,
You were thinking!
Had I been that obvious?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Legend of the Sea
Many years ago
A story was told to me
About a mighty Triton
And his Goddess of the sea
~~~~~~*****~~~~~~
Two sweethearts met upon the shore
Touching ~ holding hands
Speaking softly as they left
Their footprints in the sand
A kiss they shared ~ so tenderly
Love shone with golden light
Enraptured in the setting sun
Souls filled with sweet delight
Wind whispered low ~ to the surging tide
As it edged ~ ever so near
To join the lovers standing close
Not seeing the waves appear
With gentle flow ~ the cunning tide
Moved across the land
To capture the magic essence
Of love's spirit in the sand
The tide ~ it made a mighty surge
And pulled the lovers out to sea
As they held tightly to each other
Their love tossed ~ through eternity
Now through the years ~ a legend grew
About these lovers in the sand
And how the sea did claim them
For it desired their love so grand
On evening tide ~ so many say
If you walk down by the sea
You'll see the golden lovers
Frolicking ~ wild and free
It's said the sea was jealous
For a love that could not be
And the lovers became immortal
With the greatest love you'll ever see
Yes, he is the mighty Triton
She is his Goddess of the sea
And they will stay among the waves
In love ~ for eternity....
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Footprints
Footprints in the sand
As deep as they might be
Will someday be washed away
By the wind or by the sea.
The footprints have been placed
Upon the beaches sand
In memory of a creature
Proclaiming Himself as Man.
I followed this set of footprints
Placed upon the beaches Earth
To find out where Man had gone to,
And to find out His Earthly worth.
Many of the footprints were deep,
Placed upon the beaches sand,
From the troubles that Man had kept
With memories held in His hand.
And the footprints, that were placed wide
They were many upon the beach,
Were they from the trouble that Man did hide,
Or was it from happiness, that was out of reach.
And then as I noticed in front of me
The footprints were swept away,
Man again was forgotten
Until He returned another day.
Then I looked behind me,
I saw my footprints in the sand
And I know someone will follow them
While wondering, who was this Man.
Had my footprints been placed deep,
Or were they placed apart very wide,
Will they wondered if I ever laughed,
Or if I cried, from sorrows I couldn't hide.
So I closed my eyes and I wondered
About the footprints that I had placed
Someday, will Man He follow them,
While believing my life a waste.
So I continued my walk upon the beach,
I was a very joyful and happy Man,
I left my sorrow and trouble behind me,
In my footprints in the sand.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Fugitive
Im harboring a fugitive
Defector of a kind
And she lives in my soul
Drinks of my wine
And Id give my last breath
To keep us alive
Are they coming for us
With cameras or guns
We dont know which
But we gotta run
And you say this is not
What I bargained for
So hide yourself for me
All for me
We swore to ourselves
Wed go to the end of the world
But I got caught up in the whirl
And the twirl of it all
A day in the sun
Dancing alone
Baby Im so sorry
Now its coming to you
The lessons Ive learned
Wont do you any good
Youve got to get burned
Well the curse and the blessing
Theyre one in the same
Baby its all
Such a treacherous gain
Hide yourself for me
I said hide yourself for me
All for me
I stood without clothes
Danced in the sand
I was aching with freedom
And kissing the damned
I said remember this
As how it should be
Oh baby I said
Its all in our hands
Got to learn to respect
What we dont understand
We are fortunate ones
Fortunate ones
I swear
Hide yourself for me
I will hide myself for you
All for you
(I will hide)
All for you
(myself for you)
I will hide myself for you
All for you
I stood without clothes
I danced in the sand
I was aching with freedom
Kissing the damned
I said remember this
Is how it should be
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovers On A Beach
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Lovers on a beach
Lovers on a beach
Two naked hands lay on the sand
When all the world was out of reach
Through the shuttered doors
The music filtered through
Playing on a theme that couldnt run
Lovers on a shore
Lovers on a shore
The heavy wine of broken time
But now theyre gone its nothing more
Looking back on days
When summer seemed so long
Now theres only winter nights to come
And oh - sometimes shes missing you
She hears the shore
She feels it more
And out there the waves are breaking
Back here her heart is aching
Lovers on a beach
Lovers on a beach
Two silhouettes were on a shore
But now theyre lost and out of reach
Now on lonely roads
The flashbacks lead to you
Like a faded photograph in time
Oh lovers (lovers, lovers, lovers, lovers...)
And oh just as shes missing you
She hears the shore
She feels it more
And out there the waves are breaking
Back here her heart is aching
Lovers on a beach
Lovers on a beach
Two naked hands theyre on the sand
When all the world was out of reach
Lovers on a beach
Lovers on a beach
Lovers
Lovers
Lovers on a beach
Lovers
Lovers
Lovers
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'll fly Away took place in the 50's and 60's in America's South, and there are a couple of scenes where me and my friends are supposed to be skinny dipping with these girls.
quote by Jeremy London
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Driftwood
Drift wood
Is this just 'fun' for you?
Coasting on the ride.
It's been deep here with me.
Now I'm washed up in the tide.
Crashing over rocks.
Could you not just hold my hand.
And carry me beyond.
To fall on softer sand?
I was struggling for air.
Whilst you washed over me.
I thought that I could swim.
But It's unfamiliar sea.
I'm craving for the mainland.
But an island's what I get.
Where my poor mind is stranded.
As it won't let me forget.
Would you send me the drift wood.
That you stowed a ride upon.
And want the tide to take us.
To a place where we'd belong.
Could we stay there a while?
Im not asking forever.
As I understand my rescue.
Doesn't end with us together.
poem by Stevie Taite
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Night Song
The moon stretched a long finger
across the calm waters
as they rolled to the shore.
The stars danced on each wave
filling the night with romance.
Couples walked hand in hand
along the sandy shore.
Love twinkled in their eyes
as they left their footprints in the sand.
The nocturnal calls created a rhythm in the air
once the sun had bid its goodbye.
The footprints stopped occasionally
as the lovers arms curled around one another
to capture a nights kiss of bliss
as they stood on the sandy shore,
then moved along enjoying
the romantic night song.
20-21 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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We've been swimming at nude beaches and I love to go skinny dipping, but I'm sorry, sitting on top of a mountain, that's just, you're trying to show off or something. That's ridiculous.
quote by Andy Richter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Boy Jack
1914-1918
'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has anyone else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind-
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Have You News of my Boy Jack?
'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has anyone else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind-
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Poem For Maya
Dipping our bread in oil tins
we talked of morning peeling
open our rooms to a moment
of almonds, olives and wind
when we did not yet know what we were.
The days in Mallorca were alike:
footprints down goat-paths
from the beds we had left,
at night the stars locked to darkness.
At that time we were learning
to dance, take our clothes
in our fingers and open
ourselves to their hands.
The veranera was with us.
For a month the almond trees bloomed,
their droppings the delicate silks
we removed when each time a touch
took us closer to the window where
we whispered yes, there on the intricate
balconies of breath, overlooking
the rest of our lives.
poem by Carolyn Forché
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Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, The
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Low-Tide
These wet rocks where the tide has been,
Barnacled white and weeded brown
And slimed beneath to a beautiful green,
These wet rocks where the tide went down
Will show again when the tide is high
Faint and perilous, far from shore,
No place to dream, but a place to die,—
The bottom of the sea once more.
There was a child that wandered through
A giant's empty house all day,—
House full of wonderful things and new,
But no fit place for a child to play.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Phat
The word 'fat' is a term,
That 'skinny people' use,
Because they don't know what else to say,
When they see a 'fat person.'
No one has to be so rude about it,
When they see a 'fat person' eating ice cream,
Or sitting around watching others,
But some 'skinny people' don't understand to just dropp a conversation.
The word 'rude' is what 'fat people' use when someone makes fun of them,
'Fat people' are all over the world,
And yet - 'skinny people' don't want to accept the fact that 'fat people' are in this cruel world,
So some 'skinny people' have to act like they're all that and be mean to others.
There are people in this world that are 'low class' and are different from the people in the 'higher class, '
Because some people in the 'lower class' goes into depression and eat,
Because of the events happening in their life,
And so they become 'fat.'
But what 'skinny people' explain,
Is that they are slobs and can't eat normal instead of shoving food down their throat,
But what 'fat people' explain,
Is that they try to lose weight, but some of them can't because it's hard.
'Skinny people' make fun of them and 'fat people' let them,
Because some 'skinny people' don't know how it feels like to be 'fat, '
And some 'skinny people' call 'fat people' ugly and of course 'fat, '
But what 'skinny people' don't know is that we all are phat.
poem by Alicia Meyers
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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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Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
As in a sack some thing washed in:
And lay amidst the shells
And pebbles of the shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.
Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
The sea-waves washed her in
One eye was closed the other open
And on her golden hair
Were drops of red:
Wild lapped the sea-waves and the cloud
Frowned on the sea-shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.
How many winters rude have skimmed
Their frozen fingers on the white breast
Of the pale moon-lit lake a-dreaming sound
How many a Spring of green
Has come and gone:
Since that ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
The sea-waves washed her in
Her clothes that rich were tattered were
Unseemly with the smoke of cigars
And the drunk smell of alcohol
Her look was wild and sad and raw:
Wild lapped the sea-waves and the cloud
Frowned on the sea-shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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