The moment that the sun disappeared into the sea
The moment that the sun disappeared into the sea
church bells were ringing in the distance,
while I found you alone on the beach
with a seagull with a broken wing.
With streaming tears you could hardly breathe,
to me you were really beautiful
when the wind whirled, were blowing through your hair
and with the poor bird you glance was rigid
while we walked along the white beach
the waterline was glistening
with the orange-red of the last sun
the bird in your hands were suddenly lifeless
and immediately the night was dark,
for the bird we did what we could.
When my eyes caught yours at Hartenbos
the see foamed blue, alive behind us,
I felt my heart bounding suddenly somewhat anxious,
there was something intimate and magical present,
while I saw stars in your eyes
without deserving them.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Heart Of Stone
A broken wing, and a broken bone
Of a bird, that met a stone
Lied helpless And was bit despair
Looked above If god was there.
Short of food And short of breath
Was silently waiting For his death
Asked his wings If they could fly.
Yes they said why don't you try
He gathered his strength and wiped his tears.
And soon he stood Without his fears
His eyes stared at the Dark blue sky
But just then when he was about to fly
they grabbed his neck they grabbed it hard
with all his strength he could move a yard
and yes those hands did hurt his bone
he had met a heart of stone
some ugly hands and a beautiful bird.
He cried for help But no one heard.
His wings were flawed And his muscles were stiff.
He begged them to throw him off a cliff
oh dumb bird, don't you get,
look at you, it's a stone you met.
To this, the half dead bird replied
So what, if I die
Just for once I ll meet the air.
And also see if god was there.
Stories of wisdom, that were once told
But now this world had been so cold.
He wished if those blind eyes could see.
The bird was dead though his soul was free.
poem by Kanav Justa
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It Must Have Been At The End Of January
It must have been at the end of January
when the sun hanged high at seven in the afternoon,
when we walked together on the beach
and just before we kissed my eye caught a ship in the distance
Suddenly the ship disappeared
in beyond the blue ocean
but it was white and red
and the sun shone cobalt-blue in a bright sky.
That day has disappeared into oblivion
with the remembrance that constantly dwindles
and even that blonde girl I have forgotten,
even the expression on her face,
how lovely she had been,
how her lips felt and tasted,
even the hue of her eyes
I cannot bring back to my thoughts
and that woman has long been married,
with maybe a string of children
but I keep remembering that ship
as it rocks up and down on the waves.
[Reference: 'Erinnering an die Marie A' by Bertolt Brecht.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Complete; Rising Crimson With Love
Do you remember the time we walked on the beach
to the sound of the surf as it beat at our feet
and the sun was rising crimson with love
as we walked hand in hand and flew like the doves.
Do you remember the feel of the wind in our hair
as we sat on the sands without any cares
and the tears in our eyes were for joy not for grief
as we sat and felt as one with the beach.
Do you remember the time we walked on the beach
to the sound of the surf as it beat at our feet
your heart was in mine and mine was in yours
as we walked hand in hand on those magical shores.
Do you remember the feel of the wind in our hair
as we sat on the sands without any cares
and we joined with the ocean that came to our feet
making us the beach and the ocean complete.
Do you remember the time we walked on the beach
with the healing, the feeling, of being at peace
the sand at our feet, the surf in our mind
an ocean of stillness in one heart that's combined.
Do you remember the feel of the wind in our hair
with our eyes full of stars our hearts without cares
and a sun that was rising crimson with love
as our souls were set free into the sky up above.
Do you remember the time we walked on the beach
to the sound of the surf as it beat at our feet
and the sun was rising crimson with love
as we walked hand in hand and flew like the doves.
poem by David Taylor
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Ignored. (a Seagull Story)
Ignored. (A seagull story)
At the seaside restaurant it was busy everyone was eating lobsters,
I tried to catch the waiters’ eye. I was ignored and got the feeling
that I was Invisible, or that I was so small that my head didn’t reached
over the table. A seagull landed on my table a beautiful bird,
yellow beak and feet, plumage snowy white its wings light grey/blue
and its eyes were green; it also had the aroma of the Atlantic Ocean.
Waiter came, looked at the bird asked what it wanted, lobster, I said
when the dish came I gave it to the bird. Got up, left and no one tried
to stop me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A walk along the beach
I see a ship
passing beyond the breakers
white on the top
and red at the bottom
and the sea is calm
and a light wind
is blowing on the beach.
Alone I walk
on the hot soft sand
looking for shells
but here and there
I find one that’s not broken
and walk on further
and further
almost as if following a track
that’s just out of reach.
Climbing down
a small cliff
I am suddenly on a seclude beach
and in the blinding light
shells are everywhere
and I know
that no one else
has been here.
Some are brittle
like the leaves of flowers
and others hard as rock
with orange and pink embouchures,
a scope of blues,
hazing mother of pearl
shimmering like a rainbow,
brittle green circles
with holes in the middle
and some are more pure white
than snow.
I pick a ransom up at dusk
and lay down on my back
and watch the sun
setting above the sea
and time trail from me.
I must have been stuck
in my own thoughts
and caught by the serenity
when suddenly I noticed
a beautiful naked girl
looking at me
with a kiss in her eyes
that penetrates into my soul.
Her eyes shining
with shivering iridescence
(just like mother of pearl)
and her teeth gleaming
whiter than anything.
The second kiss
is on my lips
and hot and sweet.
Some perfume
almost dazes my head
and her nipples brush
protruding against my cheek.
“You have beautiful shells, ”
a husky voice says
and no words can express
my thoughts
while I kiss her back.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Set the Bird Free for the Skies
My wish got fulfilled
When I caught hold of a bird
I decided to cage her
Feed, play and save her
From people and vultures
Preying for her
Making the bird to live longer
I told my wish to the little bird
The little bird replied
You are a greedy man
You have taken my freedom
To fulfill ugly wishes
Now I can’t fly
See the world with my eyes
Sit and nest on trees
You want to me die in captivity
I shall love to die flying
As god destined
I felt
Lead being poured
Into my ears
Tears rolled from my eyes
I set the bird free
For the skies
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A beautiful bird that got away
Help me cry for the beautiful bird
So full of life and spotless in nature
Help me cry for the beautiful bird
The one who found refuge and treat me with pleasure
I will cry for the beautiful bird
The bird who shield me with feather and showed me love
I will cry and cry again for the beautiful bird
My beautiful dream that left my heart in knots.
poem by Olufunmbi Aransiola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am The Beach...
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips.
The sun began to set and the voice of the beach,
traveled across the ocean waves.
'I am the beach, and here you shall find peace.
I am the beach, here you shall find love.
In this domain, my beach, the answers you
search for, could very well be found here.
For at this beach, there is much,
that has been revealed.
The sparkled, white grains of sand, that blanket
this beach, has been a bed of comfort, to many.
Pause, as you come upon this beach, and listen
to the symphony of waves and the chorus of
birds, singing their song, as they glide in the wind.
Feel the power of this beach, as it seems to
renew your inner being. You need not question
the beach and its mystical powers. For as
millions before you have found, the beach...
and its magical transference to one...have
existed, since the beginning of time.
Be not troubled, for the beach is close at
hand. You need only to deliver your strife,
to the tranquility of the beach and it shall
be exercised from you.
When you go from this beach...leave with
the peace that you have found here.'
The Power Of The Beach
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips.
The sun began to set and the voice of the beach,
traveled across the ocean waves.
'I am the beach, and here you shall find peace.
I am the beach, here you shall find love.
In this domain, my beach, the answers you
search for, could very well be found here.
For at this beach, there is much,
that has been revealed.
The sparkled, white grains of sand, that blanket
this beach, has been a bed of comfort, to many.
Pause, as you come upon this beach, and listen
to the symphony of waves and the chorus of
birds, singing their song, as they glide in the wind.
Feel the power of this beach, as it seems to
renew your inner being. You need not question
the beach and its mystical powers. For as
millions before you have found, the beach...
and its magical transference to one...have
existed, since the beginning of time.
Be not troubled, for the beach is close at
hand. You need only to deliver your strife,
to the tranquility of the beach and it shall
be exercised from you.
When you go from this beach...leave with
the peace that you have found here.'
Under A Blanket Of Stars...
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips.
The sun began to set and the voice of the beach,
traveled across the ocean waves.
'I am the beach, and here you shall find peace.
I am the beach, here you shall find love.
In this domain, my beach, the answers you
search for, could very well be found here.
For at this beach, there is much,
that has been revealed.
The sparkled, white grains of sand, that blanket
this beach, has been a bed of comfort, to many.
Pause, as you come upon this beach, and listen
to the symphony of waves and the chorus of
birds, singing their song, as they glide in the wind.
Feel the power of this beach, as it seems to
renew your inner being. You need not question
the beach and its mystical powers. For as
millions before you have found, the beach...
and its magical transference to one...have
existed, since the beginning of time.
Be not troubled, for the beach is close at
hand. You need only to deliver your strife,
to the tranquility of the beach and it shall
be exercised from you.
When you go from this beach...leave with
the peace that you have found here.'
Under A Blanket Of Stars
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips.
The sun began to set and the voice of the beach,
traveled across the ocean waves.
'I am the beach, and here you shall find peace.
I am the beach, here you shall find love.
In this domain, my beach, the answers you
search for, could very well be found here.
For at this beach, there is much,
that has been revealed.
The sparkled, white grains of sand, that blanket
this beach, has been a bed of comfort, to many.
Pause, as you come upon this beach, and listen
to the symphony of waves and the chorus of
birds, singing their song, as they glide in the wind.
Feel the power of this beach, as it seems to
renew your inner being. You need not question
the beach and its mystical powers. For as
millions before you have found, the beach...
and its magical transference to one...have
existed, since the beginning of time.
Be not troubled, for the beach is close at
hand. You need only to deliver your strife,
to the tranquility of the beach and it shall
be exercised from you.
When you go from this beach...leave with
the peace that you have found here.'
Unfinished requiem
A bird is flying,
But I see only the flight in itself,
The movement.
I close my eyes and I can touch it,
I close my eyes and I can feel it.
The sound of motion hurts my ear.
It is a movement in itself,
And inside of me,
It is like a scream.
Someone shoots
The wing of the bird,
And I feel the movement of the air,
Generated by the falling bird.
I understand, in a second,
My love for you.
It is a relic of a feeling,
Slipped into that place from where the white bird
Collapsed,
Like the soul from the moment to eternity.
My thinking with your name on it
Remains, seemingly, attached to that place,
As a red stain on the blue sky,
Which needs to become white
Between the eyelids,
Only pain can be continuously crushed
And transformed into tears.
Between the saints,
Only God gathers perfect feelings,
Our feelings,
That makes us capable to reach Him.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird-Magic
Where no birds breathe, bird-magic breathes
Bird-beauty, bird-spirit, bird-splendour,
And brings where no bird wings,
Wing-beats that woo me to wonder.
What do I want when a woman can warm
Bird-magic from her bosom, her womanly arms?
Her lips that are petals, her thighs that are trees,
Boughful with blossoms of softness and ease?
What is the liquid that lingers with love
In her voice? Is the music that hangs in her eyes?
The dewdrop.that dangles from finger-tip touch?
The mellifluous magic that moves me so much?
This is no bird-magic:
This is woman, who with a sweep of her hair
Sends birds bursting to wings in the air.
This is woman, whose frown
Droops dark feathers down.
This is woman; her smile, her kiss, her holding in arms,
Hold more bliss for me than bird-charms.
poem by Tan Pratonix
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The Black Bird That Keeps On Flying
the black bird
keeps on flying
over my head
its wing tips
touch my hair
the black bird
weeps
and my mind
cannot ignore
it
it is seeing you
again
and it does not
know
what to do
with its beak
it wants to kiss you
but your eyes
are angry
it wants to land over
your hair
but they are hard
as wires
the black bird
has no nest for
its eggs
you never mind it
your mind
thinks always of
that white bird
in the sky
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Bird Song
Theres a little bird
Somebody sent down to earth
To live along the wind
Blowing on the wind
And she sleeps on the wind
This little bird, somebody sent
Light and fragile
And feathered sky blue
Thin and graceful
The sun shining through
She flies so high up in the sky
Way out of reach of human eyes
Light and fragile
And feathered sky blue
Thin and graceful
The sun shining through
She flies so high up in the sky
Way out of reach of human eyes
Light and fragile
And feathered sky blue
Thin and graceful
The sun shining through
And the only time that she touches ground
Is when that little bird, little bird
Is when that little bird, little bird
Is when that little bird, little bird
Is when that little bird dies
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Beautiful Bird That Cannot Escape From The Cage
there is a beautiful bird caged in my house
its flumes are red
its beak of course is black
its claws neat and clean
and cannot scratch
its eyes blank
its feathers dull
(perhaps she is bored to death
but she is still that beautiful bird caged in the heart
of my house)
when she sings
usually in the night before everyone sleeps
everyone hears
what sadness lies in the heart of its
throat
i know that it wants to escape from the cage in the heart of the house
but someone more cruel
wants it caged
forever
there is a beautiful red bird caged in my heart
i want it set free
she understands it well
she wants to be free
i know it too well
but things will just be what it is
there is nothing we can do
she is the beautiful red feathered bird caged
and shall never be free
like the stairs, like the walls, like the beams like the stars
shall this red bird be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Little Bird
John d loudermilk
Theres a little bird that somebody sends
Down to the earth to live on the wind.
Born on the wind and he sleeps on the wind
This little bird that somebody sends.
Hes light and fragile and feathered sky blue,
So thin and graceful the sun shines through.
This little bird who lives on the wind,
This little bird that somebody sends.
He flies so high up in the sky
Out of reach of human eye.
And the only time that he touches the ground
Is when that little bird
Is when that little bird
Is when that little bird dies.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A White Horse Of The Most Magical Kind
She rode a white horse,
rode it for sanity;
galloped and cantered
with rhythmic consistency,
walked for a while
along glistening streams
and trotted through dark woods
with the darkest of dreams.
Bridled with a need to express
she rode east and rode west,
never stopping or ceasing her quest,
until she reached
the most beautiful shore,
of a beach of white sand
with a moon in the sky
that reached with its moonlight
into her heart, that had cried.
She dismounted the horse
and danced on the sands
with stars in her eyes;
pure love in her hands.
She looked at her horse
praised it and said
'a horse such as you
is a magical find
a horse that's named poetry
is the most wonderful kind.'
poem by David Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Death Bird
The death bird screams in the chill of the night
Flying through the tree branches
Making themselves scarse
Wind blowing through his wings
The moon being covered bu the clouds,
like a knight in shining armor
As the church bells ring, the towns people sleep in fear
Gentlemen stumble drunken giddy with the sweet intoxicating life and alcohol
Their bodies numb with joy
The people do not know the death bird sings for a lost soul
The man on the streets who has never found love
His blood pumps feriously through his body
A thousand thougths running through his mind
As the death bird screams above his head
Just waiting for death to cross over the dark fearful man
poem by Shelby Jasmin Estrada
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Moment
She walks through the rain, the pain locked behind her cold eyes
She sees the lights of the houses, those Christmas lights,
She sees her home, no lights, no tree, it is dark and still
The rain falls on her long white hair, her white gown flowing tears stream from her eyes
They are silver and full of sorrow and pain they splash against the wet street
And shine like silver perils against the black cold surface.
A car passes and for a moment she thinks the driver saw her, in her gown
For a moment she thought she was alive
Just for a moment
She sees the road stretch before her, she sees the lights that line each house
It is Christmas eave her mother and father are at church for their first Christmas sermon without her there, her eyes fill with more tears and more perils fall to the road
A bird flew above her, a dove
Her mothers favorite bird is a dove, she always says look to the dove for answers
The girl never understood her mothers words, now she knows
For a moment she smiles
For a moment she feels no pain
Just for a moment
She lifted her hands to the Dove
“Take me with you” she pleads into the sky, into the falling rain
The dove fly’s around her and grasps a small twig in his beak
The twig falls into her outstretched arms and she grasps it
She looks at her palm of her hand and sees the holly
The berries shine red, she knows what it means.
For a moment she sees the light stream from the Dove
For a moment she knew to follow
Just for a moment
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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