A Gathering
I sat and watched clouds
gathering,
Taking on familiar faces,
I was taken back to
yesterday,
When as children, we played
together,
Running on the beach, gathering
shells for our collections.
Building castles in the sand,
Teasing each other about
tomorrow,
How quickly time passes.
poem by Heather Burns
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Love Letters
As
children
we played
on the
beach.
gathering
shells
for our
collections.
Leaving
love
let ters
in the
sand.
the tide
rushed
in
many times
lately
I returned
seeking
the
letters.
for some
reason
they could
not be
found.
the beach
a blank
slate.
an angry
tide had
rushed in
destroying
our love
letters.
forever
lost in
the sand.
poem by Heather Burns
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The Sands of Tıme
Yesterday.!
I returned to
the beach,
once again
to gather
memories
looking for
a dream.
happy
moments
were spent
there,
moments to
be cherished.
gathering
shells for
our
collections,
whispered
secrets,
laughing
leaving
footprints
in the sand.
Today.!
as I wander
back
only one
set of
footprints
remain.
the other
lost
forever
in the
sands
of time.
poem by Heather Burns
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Who Can Touch The Sky?
In youth, castles are built of
sand
Ever shifting, and restless,
Somewhat as beach combers,
Eventually a tide swept in,
Gathering them in angry
arms
Whirling expectations to sea.
Here of late, castles appear
on high ground, undisturbed.
Who can touch the sky?
poem by Heather Burns
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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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Bright Buckets
Bright buckets bulge with sand and shells today,
brimmed by children busily at play,
intent on building, digging time away
upon the beach, sand castles they inlay
with scalloped decorations castaway
by last tide’s currents, scattered anyway
along the tattered margin of the bay.
A tiny grain of sand was yesterday
caught up within the complex interplay
of forces ‘yond our ken which ever weigh
upon the stream of consciousness to sway
more than a moment’s notice in their way
regardless of the influences they
appear to have upon our day to day.
Our meditations led far, far away
to rock formations which Time’s Go games play
until the grain by wind or water spray
from bedrock blown, is worn down, dust or clay,
key silent witness to life’s chaos fray.
What change of scene, and what has been, what may
yet be that grain stands witness to Time’s stay...?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Seekers! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Wandering aimlessly
At twilight on the beach,
When the fishermen go home
After a day’s catch
To the market place.
And children
Too joyfully,
After playing ball
And gathering sea shells.
The moon is covered
By the clouds,
Stars
Are invisible
To the eye.
Sea seemed to beckon;
Could it be…?
It too was lonely
Wanted to share
Desert places
With me?
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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A Storm Is Gathering
The calm before the break
A building electricity in the air
The howling wind is restless
Like a predator pacing a cage
Barely contained
It waits
Biding its time before
It finally strikes
The clouds are
Gathering 'round
Encircling with
An iron grip
The smell of rain
Permeates everything
A storm is gathering
poem by Autumn Winds
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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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Summer fun at the Beach
Summer fun is so grand
It's so fun too play in the sand
Summer time with family is so fun
you get to laugh and play in the sun
Running around on the beach
and for the ocean they try to reach
Summer fun is so grand
all the little kids run and play hand in hand
Get to play with a beach ball
seems like your there all day long
Making sand castles is really grand
just laughing and playing in the sand
Laughing, running, jumping, and jogging
screaming, shell collecting, beach walking and ball hogging
And all this summer fun has just begun,
I hope you read this poem when you done
poem by Attalia Gooden
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The Gathering
The Gathering
The time has come once again for the gathering. We come to together to laugh and hug filling the universe with our family’s love. At the gathering we will also reminisce about all the love ones we miss. Some of whom just could not make it, and the others who can now only be with us in spirit. Now with some of the memories we will be sadden but we must not let our spirits be dampen. Because this the time for love, hugs and laughing; we are family and this is The Gathering.
I Dedicate the poem to The Smith Family Reunion 2009
May not be there physically this year but my voice will always be with you.
Whatsername
Unforgettable face, I cant think of her name
Its on the edge of my tongue, gathering dust in the back of my brain
Something bout the way she ignores me thats vaguely familiar
Makes you wonder what it was you ever did to thrill her
Here we go again
Here we go again
Here I go again
I never felt the need to soothe her savage breast
She never felt obliged to tell me of her change of address
Caught me on a downward swing but I fell through her arms
How could I be so careless, I never meant to go so far
Here we go again
Here we go again
Here I go again
Oh shes back in town
Oh shes back in town
Im not leaving
Im running away
She took it all away, now shes back for the rest
Took it all so easy, wouldnt settle for less
She doesnt know what she wants but she knows how to get it
I cant remember the time, she never let me forget it
Here we go again
Here we go again
Here I go again
Oh whatsernames back in town
Shes back in town
Im not leaving
Im running away
Oh shes back in town
Oh shes back in town
Im not leaving
Im running away
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Illusion’s Cloud Lifts
How quickly time passes
and the years go by,
then we look back at things
as if they only happened yesterday
and when the cloud of illusion lifts
we suddenly realise
just how many years have gone by.
It get a little frightening when you think
of how time can slip through our fingers
like the batting of an eye.
We think of how many lives
have quickly come and gone,
of how many faces from our life
have disappeared forever,
never again to be seen.
We can only go forward
like generations before
always looking for heaven
as we open each and every door.
12 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Going To Africa
The gathering of the spirits!
The gathering of the minds,
The gathering of the people,
The gathering of the race;
But, i am free once again.
Best of love,
Best of the best!
White oak and water,
Black oak and sugar,
Going to Africa! !
Of the Balck Ark,
Of the White Ark,
Natural mystic,
Revelation! !
Of light and darkness,
In the city.
Keep on learning,
Keep on teaching,
Keep on writing,
Keep on preaching!
And, let the system teach us all.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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When the sun goes down late in the afternoon (anaphora poem)
When late in the afternoon the sun hangs just above the trees and hillocks,
I think that you must experience the colours of the clouds yourself
I think that it would be pretty in a landscape painting,
I think that this dusk brings a silence, that it’s lonely without you,
I think that you are late, are maybe still working, or have got some other plans
I think that the gathering clouds will catch you with rain,
I think that the doves tomorrow evening will also be in love and coo like this,
I think that the jasmine and lavender tomorrow evening will also fill the air.
I think I will dream of branches that hit from the wind on the roof,
I think that maybe tomorrow I will see you for the last time.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Beautiful People
Super-talented children
play on the eternal beach,
building castles and cities
and civilisations and worlds,
anything, everything they want;
and try to keep all and each
out of everyone else’s reach.
Dancing around hand in hand,
they themselves are powdered sand.
The sun shines down
burning them brown.
The sea rolls in
ironing everything
smooth and flat and thin.
poem by Brian Taylor
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The Gathering
There was a gathering of time
in odd spaces.
There was a gathering of spaces
seeking my time, your time, our time.
There was a gathering of the Saving Graces
which bid us to lie down with peace
to bloom in time and space.
This was a gathering of hopes and dreams
in a space, in a time
with an individualized saving grace.
In gathering it seems-
if we come with only our individual sense
of time, space and grace-
we will have not gathered at all
and will have only succumbed to Sweet Ironic Irony.
'Place then' he said
'your eyes upon the Sun
and know that life is such that
sometimes you must be the moon.
'Place then' he said' your hand
knowing your space
sometimes
in life
must be our space or no space at all.'
'How' we all said
'is this trick to be done? '
He said 'no trick. It is the essence of all things
not only to change
but to be in essence
more than one thing;
even to be more than two
at the same time.'
'That is why' he said
uplifting his arm
'we can think two different,
even contradictory things
at the same time.
This is not artifact
but essence.
This is nature-
not mistake.
Who I am;
Who are we
is the same query
and the answer is for both:
both are we
and each is I
for all is multiples;
and Revelation;
there is no
Universal Rule
of Consistency;
we live in multiple multiplicities.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Sand in the car
Once we were one,
a family with unified hopes
united in vacation
to the beach on a sunny day.
The children made castles of sand
that slowly crumbled,
assaulted by a rising tide,
a kingdom eroded as the day grew old.
We piled into the car
as the first rays of nighttime
broke the sky into a panorama
of colorful clouds.
That car, Toyota Corolla,
the most reliable car I have ever owned
where we kissed and held hands at stop lights
was yours in the divorce.
It was the birthplace of dreams,
the setting for romance strong enough
for a blockbuster movie,
scripted in the sand from our children's feets.
You sold the car,
and I pray you sold it to a man
who doesn't own a vacuum,
so that the sand can live,
though we have died.
poem by John W. McEwers
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Give Me Back Yesterday
Give me back yesterday
and forget about tomorrow
allow time to stand still
as we enjoy our last meal
oh father grant me my last will
Give me back yesterday
and forget about tomorrow
where you where here in my arm
safe and away from all harm
and life as we know it was calm
Give me back yesterday
and forget about tomorrow
because tomorrow i lose you
but i wish it wasn't true
because there's so much we didn't do
So give me back yesterday
because i don't want tomorrow
i have seen it and didn't like it
chaos was everywhere
and you weren't there
so please can i have
back yesterday
where its just us
for one last day
poem by Robert Roberts
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Beach
BEACH
soft, warm sand
smooth sand castles
white birds
salty, blue water
loud, giggly children playing
peaceful vacation
poem by Kera Davis
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Memories Of The Beach
We went to the beach to get wind in our hair
to stand on the sand and simply to stare.
To let the surf tickle toes and dampen our clothes
as we played 'run away'
from the wavelets at play.
We went to the beach to climb on the rocks
find cool shallow pools where we'd take of our socks,
and peer in the waters to see what we might find
that the waves of the sea,
had last left behind.
We went to the beach to find coloured shells
the kind that when placed to our ears
make the sound of the ocean appear,
and gathered rocks that we never would find
in the places we walked,
for most of the time.
We went to the beach and all that, we did find
and the smell of the salt refreshed our tired minds.
I'll never forget the laughter and sounds
and the freedom to run,
on that wet sandy ground.
We went to the beach my family and I
and there we were one,
with the ocean, the beach, and the sky.
poem by David Taylor
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